I Would Always Be A Better Hater

She Was One Of Those Southerners Who Knew From An Early Age That The South Could Never Be More For Them Than A Fragrant Prison, Administered By A Collective Of Loving But Treacherous Relatives.

My Mother Thought Of My Father As Half Barbarian And Half Blunt Instrument, And She Isolated Him From His Children.

The Fruit Tasted Foreign But Indigenous, Like Sunlight A Tree Had Changed Through Patience.

In Families, There Are No Crimes Beyond Forgiveness.

There Is Such A Thing As Too Much Beauty In A Woman And It Is Often A Burden As Crippling As Homeliness And Far More Dangerous. It Takes Much Luck And Integrity To Survive The Gift Of Perfect Beauty, And Its Impermanence Is Its Most Cunning Betrayal.