The Color White Is The

About Halfway Through I Broke Down Crying, Which I Hadn't Expected. I Was A Little Ashamed, But Only A Little;it Was Her, You See, And She Never Taxed Me With The Times That I Slipped From The Way I Thought A Man Should Be...the Way I Thought I Should Be, At Any Rate. A Man With A Good Wife Is The Luckiest Of God's Creatures, And One Without Must Be Among The Most Miserable, I Think, The Only True Blessing Of Their Lives That They Don't Know How Poorly Off They Are.

The Color White Is The Absence Of Memory.

Superstition, Like True Love, Needs Time To Grow And Reflect Upon Itself.

I Am In Trouble Here. This Woman Is Not Right.

How Else Could He Go On, Except With Merciful Incomprehension Held Before Him Like A Shield? How Could Anyone?