Most Of The Time In Our World,

The Joyful Will Stoop With Sorrow, And When You Have Gone To The Earth I Will Let My Hair Grow Long For Your Sake, I Will Wander Through The Wilderness In The Skin Of A Lion

He Will Hear The Rain Before He Feels It, A Clicking On The Dry Grass, On The Olive Leaves.

Politically I Don't Believe Anymore That We Can Only Have One Voice To A Story, It's Like Having One Radio Station To Represent A Country.

We Are Expanded By Tears, We Are Told, Not Reduced By Them.

I Am Someone Who Has A Cold Heart. If I Am Beside A Great Grief I Throw Barriers Up So The Loss Cannot Go Too Deep Or Too Far. There Is A Wall Instantly In Place, And It Will Not Fall.