We Are Expanded By Tears,

If Any Of You On Your Journeys See Her-shout To Me, Whistle...he Sang, And It Became A Habit For Audiences To Shout And Whistle In Response To Those Lines. There Was Nowhere He Could Hide In Such A Song That Had All Of Its Doors And Windows Open, So That He Could Walk Out Of It Artlessly, The Antiphonal Responses Blending With Him As If He Were No Longer On Stage.

It's A Discovery Of A Story When I Write A Book, A Case Of Inching Ahead On Each Page And Discovering What's Beyond In The Darkness, Beyond Where You're Writing.

He Has Been Disassembled By Her. And If She Has Brought Him To This, What Has He Brought Her To?

For The First Forty Days A Child Is Given Dreams Of Previous Lives. Journeys, Winding Paths, A Hundred Small Lessons And Then The Past Is Erased.

All I Ever Wanted Was A World Without Maps.