In General, I Almost Always

This Is Not A Full Circle. It's Life Carrying On. It's The Next Breath We All Take. It's The Choice We Make To Get On With It.

I Don't Think We Have All The Words In A Single Vocabulary To Explain What We Are Or Why We Are. I Don't Think We Have The Range Of Emotion To Fully Feel What Someone Else Is Feeling. I Don't Think Any Of Us Can Sit In Judgment Of Another Human Being. We're Incomplete Creatures, Barely Scraping By. Is It Possible--from The Perspective Of This Quickly Spinning Earth And Our Speedy Journey From Crib To Coffin--to Know The Difference Between Right, Wrong, Good, And Evil? I Don't Know If It's Even Useful To Try.

I Love My Mother So Much, Because I See The Whole Of Her.

Fbi Girl Is A Gorgeous, Sumptuous Book. Conlon-mcivor Takes A Subject (herself And Her Family) That Might Have Sunk In Other Hands, Beats Egg White Under Her Words And The Whole Thing Rises Like A Dream. It's A Love Story For Her People And For A Time And Place. Read It.

There's A Point At Which Writing A Book, Or A Long Article, Begins To Feel Like Mental Labor, And It's Too Painful To Connect In The World In Any Real Way Mid-process. The Only Way To Survive Is To Write Until It Is All Said And Done.