To Know I Was Beautiful In His

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?"

The Phoenix Must Burn To Emerge.

Pick A Better Verb. Most People Use Twenty Verbs To Describe Everything From A Run In Their Stocking To The Explosion Of An A-bomb.

She Should Think About Her Own Soul, What She Was Going To Do With This Funky Tattered Pond Dank Item. Dark And Stained, A Ruined Thing.

It's All I Ever Really Wanted, That Revelation. The Possibility Of Fixed Stars.