I Am Not A Storyteller . .

If You Don't Stop Apologizing, You're Going To Convince Me You've Done Something Wrong.

Those Who Live In Memories Are Never Really Dead." The House At Riverton

. . . Companions Were To Be Valued, Wherever One Found Them.

A Twinge At The Edge Of Her Lips And She Continued, The Soft, Slow Lilt Of Recitation: "ancient Walls That Sing The Distant Hours.

Lil Had Always Believed That A Person's Duty Was To Make The Best Of The Hand They Were Dealt. No Use Wondering What Might Have Been, She Used To Say, All That Matters Is What Is.