Women Always Put Men First. That's How

What Was The Point In Such Loneliness Among People. At Least If You Were By Yourself, You Had A Good Reason To Be Lonely.

After All The Fears, The Warnings, After All, A Woman's Mistakes Are Different From A Girl's. They Are Written By Fire On Stone. They Are A Trait And Not An Error.

How Vast Was A Human Being's Capacity For Suffering. The Only Thing You Could Do Was Stand In Awe Of It. It Wasn't A Question Of Survival At All. It Was The Fullness Of It, How Much Could You Hold, How Much Could You Care.

We Parked In Back And Walked Down The Stairs With Their Polished Brass Railings, Past The Old-fashioned Kitchen. We Could See The Chefs Cooking. It Smelled Like Stew, Or Meat Loaf, The Way Time Should Smell, Solid And Nourishing.

Do You Ever Want To Go Home?' I Asked Paul. He Brushed An Ash From My Face. 'it's The Century Of The Displaced Person,' He Said. 'you Can Never Go Home.