It Is One Thing To

Survivors Do Not Mourn Together. They Each Mourn Alone, Even When In The Same Place. Grief Is The Most Solitary Of All Feelings. Grief Isolates, And Every Ritual, Every Gesture, Every Embrace, Is A Hopeless Effort To Break Through That Isolation. None Of It Works. The Forms Crumble And Dissolve. To Face Death Is To Stand Alone.

He Was A Man Who Would Never Ask For Sympathy. He Was A Man Who Sought Only To Do What Was Right. Such People Appear In The World, Every World, Now And Then, Like A Single Refrain Of Some Blessed Song, A Fragment Caught On The Spur Of An Otherwise Raging Cacophony. Imagine A World Without Such Souls. Yes, It Should Have Been Harder To Do.

I Have To Feel What I'm Writing, Right Down To The Core.

Shake Your Fist All You Want But Dead Is Dead

The Idea That An Author Can Extricate Her Or His Own Ongoing Life Experience From The Tale Being Written Is A Conceit Of Very Little Worth.