It's The Thinking That Gets You Killed.

And In That Line Now Was A Whiskered Old Man, With A Linen Cap And A Crooked Nose, Who Waited In A Place Called The Stardust Band Shell To Share His Part Of The Secret Of Heaven: That Each Affects The Other And The Other Affects The Next, And The World Is Full Of Stories, But The Stories Are All One.

What She Mostly Wanted, He Learned, Was The Same Thing Many People Want--someone To Notice She Was There.

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.

The Dead Sit At Our Tables Long After They Have Gone.

He Was Near Tears, 'who Do I Blame?' He Kept Asking Me. 'there Is No God.i Can Only Blame Myself.'" The Reb's Face Tightened, As If In Pain. "that," He Said, Softly, "is A Terrible Self-indictment." Worse Than An Unanswered Prayer? "oh Yes. It Is Far More Comforting To Think God Listened And Said No, Than To Think That Nobody's Out There.