Not Everyone Writes Well From A Child's

Bookstores, Like Libraries, Are The Physical Manifestation Of The Wide World's Longest, Most Thrilling Conversation.

I Don't Think There's A Shortage Of Material In The World. Or In My Head. I Just Pray For Continued Good Health, Because I've Got Other Stories To Tell.

The Line Of Gray Along The Horizon Is Brighter Now, And With The Coming Light I Feel A Certainty: That There Is, Despite Our Wild Imaginings, Only One Life. The Ghostly Others, No Matter How Real They Seem, No Matter How Badly We Need Them, Are Phantoms. The One Life We're Left With Is Sufficient To Fill And Refill Our Imperfect Hearts With Joy, And Then To Shatter Them. And It Never, Ever Lets Up.

People Sometimes Get In The Habit Of Being Loyal To A Mistake.

My God, He Couldn't Help Thinking, How Terrible It Is To Be That Age, To Have Emotions So Near The Surface That The Slightest Turbulence Causes Them To Boil Over. That, Very Simply, Was What Adulthood Must Be All About -- Acquiring The Skill To Bury Things More Deeply. Out Of Sight And, Whenever Possible, Out Of Mind.