Nighttime Is Different. Things Are

You Make A Life Out Of What You Have, Not What You're Missing.

Doors Lead To Things And I've Never Met One I Haven't Wanted To Open.

Cassandra Wondered At The Mind's Cruel Ability To Toss Up Flecks Of The Past. Why, As She Neared Her Life's End, Her Grandmother's Head Should Ring With The Voices Of People Long Since Gone. Was It Always This Way? Did Those With Passage Booked On Death's Silent Ship Always Scan The Dock For Faces Of The Long-departed?

She Felt Like A Fictional Character Who'd Escaped The Book In Which Her Creator Had Carefully And Kindly Trapped Her, Taken A Pair Of Scissors To Her Outline And Leaped, Free.

They Say Everyone Needs Something To Love.