Purification In Fire. Public Cremation

And I Realized As I Walked Through The Neighborhood How Each House Could Contain A Completely Different Reality. In A Single Block, There Could Be Fifty Seperate Worlds. Nobody Ever Really Knew What Was Going On Just Next Door.

Life Should Always Be Like This. ... Like Lingering Over A Good Meal.

Isn't It Funny.i'm Enjoying My Hatred So Much More Than I Ever Enjoyed Love. Love Is Temperamental. Tiring. It Makes Demands. Love Uses You, Changes Its Mind. But Hatred, Now, That's Something You Can Use. Sculpt. Wield. It's Hard, Or Soft, However You Need It. Love Humiliates You, But Hatred Cradles You.

I Wandered Through The Stacks, Running My Hands Along The Spines Of The Books On The Shelves, They Reminded Me Of Cultured Or Opinionated Guests At A Wonderful Party, Whispering To Each Other.

My Father Was An Engineer - He Wasn't Literary, Not A Writer Or A Journalist, But He Was One Of The World's Great Readers. Every Two Weeks, He'd Take Me To Our Local Branch Library And Pull Books Off The Shelf For Me, Stacking Them Up In My Arms - 'have You Read This? And This? And This?"