I Traded Lots Of Dreams For A

Holding Anger Is A Poison. It Eats You From The Inside. We Think That Hating Is A Weapon That Attacks The Person Who Harmed Us. But Hatred Is A Curved Blade. And The Harm We Do, We Do To Ourselves. Forgive, Edward. Forgive...no One Is Born With Anger. And When We Die, The Soul Is Freed Of It. But Now, Here, In Order To Move On, You Must Understand Why You Felt What You Did, And Why You No Longer Need To Feel It.' She Touched His Hand. 'you Need To Forgive Your Father.' ~pgs 141-142

I Believe He Died This Way On Purpose. I Believe He Wanted No Chilling Moments, No One To Witness His Last Breath And Be Haunted By It, The Way He Had Been Haunted By His Mother's Death-notice Telegram Or By His Father's Corpse In The City Morgue.

But A Desperate Heart Will Seduce The Mind.

All Who Are Born Are Always Dying.

For Years I Wrote In My Basement. More Recently I Graduated To One Floor Above, An Office With All My Books And Music And - Ta Da! - A Window.