So This Is Where The

It Occurs To Her That She Should Record This Flash Of Insight In Her Journal - Otherwise She Is Sure To Forget, For She Is Someone Who Is Always Learning And Forgetting And Obliged To Learn Again.

Anyone's Childhood Can Be An Act Of Disablement If Rehearsed And Replayed And Squinted At In A Certain Light. . .

The Scolding Voice Is Her Own, So Abrasive And Quick, Yet So Powerless To Move Her.

We Are Too Kind, Too Willing--too Unwilling Too--reaching Out Blindly With A Grasping Hand But Not Knowing How To Ask For What We Don't Even Know We Want.

Happiness Is The Lucky Pane Of Glass You Carry In Your Head. It Takes All Your Cunning Just To Hang On To It, And Once It's Smashed You Have To Move Into A Different Sort Of Life.