It's Good To Be In Love.

Norah Looked At Her Son’s Tiny Face, Surprised, As Always, By His Name. He Had Not Grown Into It Yet, He Still Wore It Like A Wrist Band, Something That Might Easily Slip Off And Disappear. She Had Read About People – Where? She Could Not Remember This Either – Who Refused To Name Their Children For Several Weeks, Feeling Them To Be Not Yet Of The Earth, Suspended Still Between Two Worlds.

Once, This Whole World Had Been Hidden Beneath A Shallow Sea.

...so Young, So Lonely And Naive, That She Imagined Herself As Some Sort Of Vessel To Be Filled Up With Love. But It Wasn't Like That. The Love Was Within Her All The Time And Its Only Renewal Came From Giving It Away.

The Thing Is, I Used To Like That: Feeling Special Because I Knew Something No One Else Did. It's A Kind Of Power, Isn't It, Knowing A Secret? But Lately I Don't Like It So Much, Knowing This. It's Not Really Mine To Know, Is It?

I Think That The Whole Child Welfare System Has To Be Totally Taken Apart And Built Up Again. Have An Agency Just Specifically For Those Follow-up Cases.