But In My Humble Opinion, A House

Hope, How She Had Grown To Hate The Word. It Was An Insideious Seed Planted Inside A Person's Soul, Surviving Covertly On Little Tending, Then Flowering So Spectacularly That None Could Help But Cherish It.

Had Any Poet Adequately Described The Wretched Ugliness Of A Loved One Turned Inside Out With Grief?

Rejection Is A Cancer, Edie. It Eats Away At A Person.

It Didn't Occur To Him That She Might Have Chosen To Remain This Way. That Where He Saw Reserve And Loneliness, Cassandra Saw Self-preservation And The Knowledge That It Was Safer When One Had Less To Lose.

While I Wasn't Certain How I Felt About Spiritualists, I Was Certain Enough About The Type Of People Who Were Drawn To Them. Only People Unhappy In The Present Seek To Know The Future.