Amen, Sister, ... All Apologies To Tom

Centuries Of Fighting, And For What? I Say. "today It Ends. I Can't Live In Fear Any Longer. I've Cursed This Power. I've Both Enjoyed And Misused It. And I've Hidden It Away. Now I Must Try To Wield It Correctly, To Marry It To A Purpose And Hope That Is Enough.

My Dad Was A Presbyterian Minister. Yes, I Am One Of Those Dreaded P.k.s - Preachers Kids. Be Afraid.

The Sun Has Blessed You," Sarita Used To Say. "look How He Has Left His Kisses On Your Face For All To See And Be Jealous." "the Sun Loves You More," I Said, Rubbing My Hands Over Her Dry Arms, The Color Of An Aged Wine Gourd, And She Laughed. But This Is Not India And We Are Not Prized For Our Freckles Here. The Sun Is Not Allowed To Show His Love.

I Changed My Mind. I Don’t Want To Be An Inveshtigative Journalist Anymore. I Want To Be A Professional Rum Drinker.” “there Are People Who Do That,” Duff Said. He’d Barely Sipped His Rum. “really? What Do You Call Them?” “alcoholics.

Oh, I've A Love, A True, True Love, Who Waits Upon Yon Shore... And If My Love Won't Be My Love, Then I Will Live No More.