Eavesdropping is such a regular-person activity.

Eavesdropping is such a regular-person activity.

Thoughts are strange creatures. They lead you from one thing to another. Sometimes you don’t know how you got from one to the next.

My own mask stayed just where it ought. I’ve had lots of practice.

It's one thing to keep secrets. It's quite another to lie.

A poem doesn’t come out and tell you what it has to say. It circles back on itself, eating its own tail and making you guess what it means.

That’s where proper stories begin, don’t they, when the handsome stranger arrives and everything goes wrong?