The Next Day, She Was Silent. For

Had She Never Been Hungry Enough To Eat A Flower? Did She Not Know That You Could Eat Daisies, Daylilies, Pansies, And Marigolds? That Hungry Enough, A Person Could Consume The Bright Faces Of Violas, Even The Stems Of Dandelions And The Bitter Hips Of Roses?

Like Putting A Name To My Problems Would Solve Anything

Where We Are From... [s]tories Are Factual. If A Farmer Is Declared A Music Virtuoso By The State, Everyone Had Better Start Calling Him Maestro. And Secretly, He'd Be Wise To Start Practicing The Piano. For Us, The Story Is More Important Than The Person. If A Man And His Story Are In Conflict, It Is The Man Who Must Change.

The Next Day, She Was Silent. For Breakfast, She Murdered An Onion And Served It Raw.

The Darkness Inside Your Head Is Something Your Imagination Fills With Stories That Have Nothing To Do With The Real Darkness Around You.