...he Did Not Want Me To Seek

I Was Stained By Failure.

She Rested Her Head Against His And Felt, For The First Time, What She Would Often Feel With Him: A Self-affection. He Made Her Like Herself. With Him, She Was At Ease; Her Skin Felt As Though It Was Her Right Size.. It Seemed So Natural, To Talk To Him About Odd Things. She Had Never Done That Before. The Trust, So Sudden And Yet So Complete, And The Intimacy, Frightened Her.. But Now She Could Think Only Of All The Things She Yet Wanted To Tell Him, Wanted To Do With Him.

Our Histories Cling To Us. We Are Shaped By Where We Come From.

One Of The Things That Struck Me When I Came To The U.s. Was Discovering American Poverty.

When We Realize That There Is Never A Single Story About Any Place, We Regain A Kind Of Paradise.