So Actually, There Could Be Parents-of-the-parents-of-the-parents-of-the Parents?

It Is So Good To Have Friends Who Understand How There Is A Time For Crying And A Time For Laughing, And That Sometimes The Two Are Very Close Together.

Ellen Had Said That Her Mother Was Afraid Of The Ocean, That It Was Too Cold And Too Big. The Sky Was, Too, Thought Annemarie. The Whole World Was: Too Cold, Too Big. And Too Cruel.

The Writer After All Is Only Half The Book, The Other Half Is The Reader.

Of Course They Needed To Care. It Was The Meaning Of Everything.

He Wept, And It Felt As If The Tears Were Cleansing Him, As If His Body Needed To Empty Itself.