Lost Love Is Still Love. It Takes

Didn't People Call New Year's The Loneliest Night On The Calender? She Took Comfort In Knowing Somewhere On The Planet, Someone Might Be As Miserable As She Was.

Invest In The Human Family. Invest In People. Build A Little Community Of Those You Love And Who Love You.

There Is A Time For Hello And A Time For Good-bye. It's Why The Act Of Burying Thing Seems Natural, But The Act Of Digging Them Up Does Not.

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.

My Mother Was French Protestant, And My Father Was Italian Catholic, And Their Union Was An Excess Of God, Guilt And Sauce.