Verbs. All Of Them Tiring.

What I Wanted To Do Was Slap Him Down A Bit With Wit And Words. Grammar And Vocabulary As A Weapon. But What Kind Of World Would It Be If We All Took Every Opportunity Presented To Us To Assault The Weak?

The Sixties Were Different In An Isolated Place. We Got Two Television Channels If The Wind Was Blowing In The Right Direction. The Radio Stations Went Off At Sundown. Then You Picked Up Chicago And Heard The Teenage Music You Really Yearned For.

We Mark Some Days As Fair, Some As Foul, Because We Do Not See That The Character Of Every Day As Identical

We Are Not Strong Enough To Stand Up Against Endless Grief, And Yet Pain Is The Constant Drone Of Life. So If We Are To Have Any Happiness At All, It Is Only In The Passing Instant.

...she Knew In Her Heart That Nature Has A Preference For A Particular Order: Parents Die, Then Children Die. But It Was A Harsh Design, Offering Little Relief From Pain, For Being In Accord With It Means That The Fortunate Find Themselves Orphaned.