A Man Without Hands Came

A Little Autobiography And A Lot Of Imagination Are Best.

That's All We Have, Finally, The Words, And They Had Better Be The Right Ones.

Honey, No Offense, But Sometimes I Think I Could Shoot You And Watch You Kick.

But He Stays By The Window, Remembering That Life. They Had Laughed. They Had Leaned On Each Other And Laughed Until The Tears Had Come, While Everything Else—the Cold And Where He'd Go In It—was Outside, For A While Anyway.

When A Reader Finishes A Wonderful Story And Lays It Aside, He Should Have To Pause For A Minute And Collect Himself.