Prepared To Fly, Even If She Has

All Morning, Spence Has Been A Well-oiled Machine Of Activity. Everyone Doing Her Bit, Quietly And Efficiently. It's Strange How Deliberate People Are After A Death. All The Indecision Suddenly Vanishes Into Clear, Defined Moments--changing The Linens, Choosing A Dress Or A Hymn, The Washing Up, The Muttering Of Prayers. All The Small, Simple, Conscious Acts Of Living A Sudden Defense Against The Dying We Do Every Day.

There In The City's Steam-and-smoke-smudged Harbor Is The Most Extraordinary Sight Of All: A Great Copper-clad Lady With A Torch In One Hand And A Book In The Other. It Is Not A Statesman Or A God Or A War Hero Who Welcomes Us To This New World. It Is But An Ordinary Woman Lighting The Way- A Lady Offering Us The Liberty To Pursue Our Dreams If We've The Courage To Begin.

- 'music Opens Your Soul, Makes You Ready.' - 'ready For What?' - He Smiles Big. 'exactly.

The Corporation Would Like To Apologize For The Preceding Pages. Of Course, It's Not All Right For Girls To Behave This Way. Sexuality Is Not Meant To Be This Way - An Honest, Consensual Expression In Which A Girl Might Take An Active Role When She Feels Good And Ready And Not One Minute Before. No. Sexual Desire Is Meant To Sell Soap. And Cars. And Beer. And Religion.

He Told Me That Once, In The War, He’d Come Upon A German Soldier In The Grass With His Insides Falling Out; He Was Just Lying There In Agony. The Soldier Had Looked Up At Sergeant Leonard, And Even Though They Didn’t Speak The Same Language, They Understood Each Other With Just A Look. The German Lying On The Ground; The American Standing Over Him. He Put A Bullet In The Soldier’s Head. He Didn’t Do It With Anger, As An Enemy, But As A Fellow Man, One Soldier Helping Another.