Resentment Is The Most Precious Flower Of

But The Hearts Of Small Children Are Delicate Organs. A Cruel Beginning In This World Can Twist Them Into Curious Shapes. The Heart Of A Hurt Child Can Shrink So That Forever Afterward It Is Hard And Pitted As The Seed Of A Peach. Or Again, The Heart Of Such A Child May Fester And Swell Until It Is A Misery To Carry Within The Body, Easily Chafed And Hurt By The Most Ordinary Things.

There Was Hope In Him, And Soon Perhaps The Outline Of His Journey Would Take Form.

She Was Afraid Of These Things That Made Her Suddenly Wonder Who She Was, And What She Was Going To Be In The World, And Why She Was Standing At That Minute, Seeing A Light, Or Listening, Or Staring Up Into The Sky: Alone.

To Know Who You Are, You Have To Have A Place To Come From.

And The Curt Truth Is That, In A Deep Secret Way, The State Of Being Loved Is Intolerable To Many.