A Book Is Completed Only When It

No Shame In Saying That I Felt A Loneliness Drifting Through Me. Funny How It Was, Everyone Perched In Their Own Little World With The Deep Need To Talk, Each Person With Their Own Tale, Beginning In Some Strange Middle Point, Then Trying So Hard To Tell It All, To Have It All Make Sense, Logical And Final.

I Think A Good Novel Can Be A Doorstop To Despair. I Also Think The Real Bravery Comes With Those Who Prepared To Go Through That Door And Look At The World In All Its Grime And Torment, And Still Find Something Of Value, No Matter How Small.

Long Ago, Long Ago. The Simple Things Come Back To Us. They Rest For A Moment By Our Ribcages Then Suddenly Reach In And Twist Our Hearts A Notch Backward.

This Is Not My Life. These Are Not My Cobwebs. This Is Not The Darkness I Was Designed For.

They Told Me Corrigan Smashed All The Bones In His Chest When He Hit The Steering Wheel. I Thought, Well At Least In Heaven His Spanish Chick'll Be Able To Reach In And Grab His Heart.