Depression, Suffering And Anger Are

Do You Ever Want To Go Home?' I Asked Paul. He Brushed An Ash From My Face. 'it's The Century Of The Displaced Person,' He Said. 'you Can Never Go Home.

I Thought Of My Mother As Queen Christina, Cool And Sad, Eyes Trained On Some Distant Horizon. That Was Where She Belonged, In Furs And Palaces Of Rare Treasures, Fireplaces Large Enough To Roast A Reindeer, Ships Of Swedish Maple.

She Wanted To Wake Up Like Dorothy And See Michael's Face Peering Over The Side Of The Bed, Laughing. Why, You Just Hit Your Head. But It Was Not A Dream And There Was No Kansas And He Was Never Coming Back.

How Many People Ask You To Come Share Their Life?

Remember...we Don't See Objects, We See Light. [...] Light Can Do Anything Water Can Do--flow, Wash, Trickle. It Can Do Anything An Artist Can Do--paint, Burnish, Carve. Candlelight Falls, Licks A Face. There Is Always Light In A Room.