What I Really Want To

. . . Jess Believed, That She Thought He Was The Best. It Was Not The Kind Of Best That Counted Either At School Or At Home, But It Was A Genuine Kind Of Best. He Kept The Knowledge Of It Buried Inside Himself Like A Pirate Treasure. He Was Rich, Very Rich, But No One Could Know About It For Now Except His Fellow Outlaw, Julia Edmunds.

Thus, In A Real Sense, I Am Constantly Writing Autobiography, But I Have To Turn It Into Fiction In Order To Give It Credibility.

It Wasn't So Much That He Minded Telling Leslie That He Was Afraid To Go; It Was That He Minded Being Afraid. It Was As Though He Had Been Made With A Great Piece Missing - One Of May Belle's Puzzles With This Huge Gap Where Somebody's Eye Should Have Been. Lord, It Would Be Better To Be Born Without An Arm Than To Go Through Life With No Guts.

Some Folks Are Natural Born Kickers. They Can Always Find A Way To Turn Disaster Into Butter.

I Think, She Began Quietly, I Think We Want... Not Just Bread For Our Bellies. We Want More Than Only Bread. We Want Food For Our Hearts, Our Souls. We Want- How To Say It? We Want, You Know- Puccini Music.... We Want For Our Beautiful Children Some Beauty. She Leaned Over And Kissed The Curl On Her Finger. We Want Roses.