He Did Not Know That The Child

But Then She Did. She Died. No More Visits, No More Phone Calls. And Without Even Realizing It, I Began To Drift, As If My Roots Had Been Pulled, As If I Were Floating Down Some Side Branch Of A River.

Much Of What We Called "depression" Was Really Dissatisfaction, A Result Of Setting A Bar Impossibly High Or Expecting Treasures We Weren't Willing To Work For.

Each Affects The Other, And The Other Affects The Next, And The World Is Full Of Stories, But The Stories Are All One.

This Is How You Start To Get Respect, By Offering Something That You Have.

It's Such A Shame To Waste Time. We Always Think We Have So Much Of It.