Passion Is More Important Than Justice.

Jesus Would Be Framed And In Jail If He Was Living Today.

The Music Left Only This Bad Hurt In Her, And A Blankness. She Could Not Remember Any Of The Symphony, Not Even The Last Few Notes. She Tried To Remember, But No Sound At All Came To Her. Now That It Was Over There Was Only Her Heart Like A Rabbit And This Terrible Hurt.

But All The Time-no Matter What She Was Doing-there Was Music.

The Memories Of Childhood Have A Strange Shuttling Quality, And Areas Of Darkness Ring The Spaces Of Light. The Memories Of Childhood Are Like Clear Candles In An Acre Of Night, Illuminating Fixed Scenes From Surrounding Darkness.

I Was Like A Cat Always Climbing The Wrong Tree.