My Mother Raised Me To Be A

My Soul Grazes Like A Lamb On The Beauty Of An Indrawn Tide.

We've Pretended Too Much In Our Family, Luke, And Hidden Far Too Much. I Think We're All Going To Pay A High Price For Our Inability To Face The Truth.

There Are No Verdicts To Childhood, Only Consequences, And The Bright Freight Of Memory.

In Families, There Are No Crimes Beyond Forgiveness.

Baseball Fans Love Numbers. They Love To Swirl Them Around Their Mouths Like Bordeaux Wine.