I Think That We're All Mentally Ill.

Love Didn't Grow Very Well In A Place Where There Was Only Fear

The Boat Dipped And Swayed And Sometimes Took On Water, But It Did Not Sink; The Two Brothers Had Waterproofed It Well. I Do Not Know Where It Finally Fetched Up, If It Ever Did; Perhaps It Reached The Sea And Sails There Forever, Like A Magic Boat In A Fairytale. All I Know Is That It Was Still Afloat And Still Running On The Breast Of The Flood When It Passed The Incorporated Town Limits Of Derry, Maine, And There It Passes Out Of This Tale Forever.

Lover," She Whispers, And Closes Her Eyes. It Falls Upon Her. Love Is Like Dying.

Wanting More Is Just A Recipe For Heartache.

A Man With A Good Wife Is The Luckiest Of God's Creatures.