Oh, There Was Harm Indeed For A

A Twinge At The Edge Of Her Lips And She Continued, The Soft, Slow Lilt Of Recitation: "ancient Walls That Sing The Distant Hours.

Curiosity Might Have Killed The Cat, But Little Girls Usually Fared Much Better.

Thinking Of Nothing. Trying To Think Of Nothing. Thinking Of Everything.

They Say Everyone Needs Something To Love.

You Make A Life Out Of What You Have, Not What You're Missing.