It's A Good Country For Myths. Things

When God Closes A Door, He Opens A Window. Yeah. The Problem Was That This Particular Window Opened Off The Tenth Story, And He Wasn't So Sure God Supplied Parachutes.

Blood Of My Blood," He Whispered, "and Bone Of My Bone. You Carry Me Within Ye, Claire, And Ye Canna Leave Me Now, No Matter What Happens, You Are Mine, Always, If Ye Will It Or No, If Ye Want Me Or Nay. Mine, And I Wilna Let Ye Go.

Do You Know,' He Said Again Softly, Addressing His Hands, 'what It Is To Love Someone, And Never - Never! - Be Able To Give Them Peace, Or Joy, Or Happiness?' He Looked Up Then, Eyes Filled With Pain. 'to Know That You Cannot Give Them Happiness, Not Through Any Fault Of Yours Or Theirs, But Only Because You Were Not Born The Right Person For Them?

Tell Him I Hate Him To His Guts And The Marrow Of His Bones!

He Touched The Rough Crucifix That Lay Against His Chest And Whispered To The Moving Air, "lord, That She Might Be Safe, She And My Children." Then Turned His Cheek To Her Reaching Hand And Touched Her Throught The Veils Of Time.