Pick A Sin We Can

I Have Nothing To Say For Myself, Only That I Have Always Tried To Make This Earth A Little Bit Better

You Can't Let Facts Get In The Way Of The Truth.

Her Sanity Was A Fragile Thing, A Butterfly Cupped In Her Hands, That She Carried With Her Everywhere, Afraid Of What Would Happen If She Let It Go-or Got Careless And Crushed It.

She Breathed Deeply Of The Scent Of Decaying Fiction, Disintegrating History, And Forgotten Verse, And She Observed For The First Time That A Room Full Of Books Smelled Like Dessert: A Sweet Snack Made Of Figs, Vanilla, Glue, And Cleverness.

The Difference Between Childhood And Adulthood, Vic Had Come To Believe, Was The Difference Between Imagination And Resignation. You Traded One For The Other And Lost Your Way.