Truth Is No Rounder Than A Horse's

The Shelf Was Filled With Books That Were Hard To Read, That Could Devastate And Remake One's Soul, And That, When They Were Finished, Had A Kick Like A Mule.

Whatever I Do I've Always Done Not Because I Want Something But To Compensate For A Loss, To Bring About A Balance, To Create Amends, To Make Things Right.

Justice Came From A Fight Amid Complexities, And Required All The Virtues In The World Merely To Be Perceived.

The Voodoo Priest And All His Powders Were As Nothing Compared To Espresso, Cappuccino, And Mocha, Which Are Stronger Than All The Religions Of The World Combined, And Perhaps Stronger Than The Human Soul Itself.

She Died On A Windy Gray Day In March When The Sky Was Full Of Darting Crows And The World Lay Prostrate And Defeated After Winter. Peter Lake Was At Her Side And It Ruined Him Forever. It Broke Him As He Had Not Ever Imagined He Could Have Been Broken. He Would Never Again Be Young, Or Able To Remember What It Was Like To Be Young. What He Had Once Taken To Be Pleasures Would Appear To Him In His Defeat As Hideous And Deserved Punishments For Reckless Vanity.