Where Happiness Was Not A Possibility, The

I Was Fascinated By The Lack Of A Word For A Parent Who Has Lost A Child. We Have No Word In English. I Thought For Sure There'd Be A Word In Irish But There Is None. And Then I Looked In Several Other Languages And Could Not Find One, Until I Found The Word Sh'khol In Hebrew. I'm Still Not Sure Why So Many Languages Don't Have A Word For This Sort Of Bereavement, This Shadowing.

Goodness Was More Difficult Than Evil. Evil Men Knew That More Than Good Men. That's Why They Became Evil. That's Why It Stuck With Them. Evil Was For Those Who Could Never Reach The Truth. It Was A Mask For Stupidity And Lack Of Love. Even If People Laughed At The Notion Of Goodness, If They Found It Sentimental, Or Nostalgic, It Didn't Matter -- It Was None Of Those Things, He Said, And It Had To Be Fought For.

I'm Of The Opinion That The Real Is Imagined And The Imagined Is Quite Real. The Real Is Imagined, In The Sense That We Shape Our Stories, So Anything That Even Happens On The News Gets Shaped In A Certain Way And Gets A Texture, And That The Imagined Can Be Real.

...and It Strikes Her, As She Walks, That Borders, Like Hatred, Are Exaggerated Precisely Because Otherwise They Would Cease To Exist Altogether.

I'm Only Telling You On The Truth," He Said. "if You Can't Stand The Truth, Don't Ask For It.