There Is An Ancient Tribal Proverb I

The Mere Suggestion Of Fame And Fortune Casts A Glamour All Its Own. It Is Rather Alarming How Quickly People Will Turn Someone Else's Fiction Into Fact In Order To Support Their Own Fictions Of Themselves.

It Occurs To Me That Cricket Is Not The True Sport In London - Gossip Is.

He Smiles Sadly. "now I Know My Destiny." "what Is It?" "this." He Draws Me In To Him In A Kiss. His Lips Are Warm. He Pulls Me Tighter In His Embrace. The Roots Sigh And Release Their Hold On My Waist And The Wound In My Side Is Healed. "kartik," I Cry, Kissing His Cheeks. "it's Let Me Go." "that's Good," He Says. He Makes A Small Cry. His Back Arches, And Every Muscle In His Body Tightens.

Why Does Everyone Want To Own Me?" Pippa Mumbles. She's Got Her Head In Her Hands. "why Do They All Want To Control My Life -- How I Look, Whom I See, What I Do Or Don't Do? Why Can't They Just Let Me Alone?" "because You're Beautiful," Ann Answers, Watching The Fire Lick Her Palm. "people Always Think They Can Own Beautiful Things.

But We Can't Go Back. We Can Only Go Forward.