History And Memory Share Events; That Is,

But Sometimes The World Disrobes, Slips Its Dress Off A Shoulder, Stops Time For A Beat. If We Look Up At That Moment, It's Not Due To Any Ability Of Ours To Pierce The Darkness, It's The World's Brief Bestowal. The Catastrophe Of Grace.

Now We're Like Planets, Holding To Each Other From A Great Distance. [...] Now We're Hundreds Of Miles Apart, Our Short Arms Keep Us Lonely, No One Hears What's In My Head. [...] It's March, Even The Birds Don't Know What To Do With Themselves.

Hold A Book In Your Hand And You're A Pilgrim At The Gates Of A New City.

The Best Teacher Lodges An Intent Not In The Mind But In The Heart.

The Dead Leave Us Starving With Mouths Full Of Love.” From “memoriam