You Could Not Be Filled

If I Had But An Hour Of Love,if That Be All That Is Given Me,an Hour Of Love Upon This Earth,i Would Give My Love To Thee.

It's Something That I Know How To Do Because I Taught For A Very Long Time, So I Can Do It, And I Feel A Responsibility To Do It - For Instance, In This Situation, Where I'm Touring Specifically For This Period Of Time. But Most Writers Are Not Public People. There Are A Few Writers Out There Who Really Enjoy It And Are Good At It, And Can Both Work And Do That At The Same Time, But I'm Not One Of Those People.

My Father Had Not Been Outside The House Except To Drive Back And Forth To Work Or Sit Out In The Backyard, For Months, Nor Had He Seen His Neighbors. Now He Looked At Them, From Face To Face, Until He Realized I Had Been Loved By People He Didn't Even Recognize. His Heart Filled Up, Warm Again As It Had Not Been In What Seemed So Long To Him- Save Small Forgotten Moments With Buckley, The Accidents Of Love That Happened With His Son. ~pgs 209-210; Buckley, Lindsey And Jack On Susie

She Liked To Imagine That When She Passed, The World Looked After Her, But She Also Knew How Anonymous She Was. Except When She Was At Work, No One Knew Where She Was At Any Time Of Day And No One Waited For Her. It Was Immaculate Anonymity.

Now I Am In The Place I Call This Wide Wide Heaven Because It Includes All My Simplest Desires But Also The Most Humble And Grand. The Word My Grandfather Uses Is Comfort. So There Are Cakes And Pillows And Colors Galore, But Underneath This More Obvious Patchwork Quilt Are Places Like A Quiet Room Where You Can Go And Hold Someone's Hand And Not Have To Say Anything. Give No Story. Make No Claim. Where You Can Live At The Edge Of Your Skin For As Long As You Wish.