When You Are An Outcast,

My Mother Was French Protestant, And My Father Was Italian Catholic, And Their Union Was An Excess Of God, Guilt And Sauce.

You Have To Start Over. That's What They Say. But Life Is Not A Board Game, And Losing A Loved One Is Never Really "starting Over." More Like "continuing Without.

Please, Please, Please, Please, Please...,", Squeezing His Eyes Shut Because It Somehow Made The Words More Pure.

Tears Are Okay [morrie Schwartz]

He Was Near Tears, 'who Do I Blame?' He Kept Asking Me. 'there Is No God.i Can Only Blame Myself.'" The Reb's Face Tightened, As If In Pain. "that," He Said, Softly, "is A Terrible Self-indictment." Worse Than An Unanswered Prayer? "oh Yes. It Is Far More Comforting To Think God Listened And Said No, Than To Think That Nobody's Out There.