He Has The Ability To Catch Someone

You Build Your World Around Someone, And Then What Happens When He Disappears? Where Do You Go-into Pieces, Into Atoms, Into The Arms Of Another Man? You Go Shopping, You Cook Dinner, You Work Odd Hours, You Make Love To Someone Else On June Nights. But You're Not Really There.

Be Careful What You Wish For. I Know That For A Fact. Wishes Are Brutal, Unforgiving Things. They Burn Your Tongue The Moment They're Spoken And You Can Never Take Them Back.

When The Cold Comes To New England It Arrives In Sheets Of Sleet And Ice. In December, The Wind Wraps Itself Around Bare Trees And Twists In Between Husbands And Wives Asleep In Their Beds. It Shakes The Shingles From The Roofs And Sifts Through Cracks In The Plaster. The Only Green Things Left Are The Holly Bushes And The Old Boxwood Hedges In The Village, And These Are Often Painted White With Snow. Chipmunks And Weasels Come To Nest In Basements And Barns; Owls Find Their Way Into Attics. At Night,the Dark Is Blue And Bluer Still, As Sapphire Of Night.

Our House Was Littered With Books- In The Kitchen, Under The Beds, Stuck Between The Couch Pillows--far Too Many For Her The Ever Finish. I Suppose I Thought If My Grandmother Kept Up Her Interests, She Wouldn't Die; She'd Have To Stay Around To Finish The Books She Was So Fond Of. "i've Got To Get To The Bottom Of This One," She'd Say, As If A Book Were No Different From A Pond Or A Lake. I Thought She'd Go On Reading Forever But It Didn't Work Out That Way.

Just Because Something Is Unspoken Doesn't Mean That It Disappears.