Language That Tells Us, Through A More

Friends: People Who Borrow My Books And Set Wet Glasses On Them.

Two Kinds Of Gratitude: The Sudden Kind We Feel For What We Take; The Larger Kind We Feel For What We Give.

For When A Woman Is Left Too Much Alone, Sooner Or Later She Begins To Think; And No Man Knows What Then She May Discover.

And Thus We All Are Nighing The Truth We Fear To Know: Death Will End Our Crying For Friends That Come And Go.

I Cannot Find My Way: There Is No Star In All The Shrouded Heavens Anywhere