The words! I collected them in all shapes and sizes and hung them like bangles in my mind.
'Ms.' is a syllable which sounds like a bumble bee is breaking wind.
I don't suppose there's really any critic except posterity.
if you listen too hard to the technology, your ear goes deaf to its implications.
But the trek that starts with the feet always rises in time to the head. There had never been any of mankind's that didn't.
A happy childhood can't be cured. Mine'll hang around my neck like a rainbow, that's all, instead of a noose.