A girl expecting rescue never learns to save herself. Even with the means, she will find her courage wanting.

Better to lose oneself in action than to wither in despair.

Had any poet adequately described the wretched ugliness of a loved one turned inside out with grief?

I write what I'd like to read and just hope that, along the way, others might like to read them, too.

I've heard it said that children born to stressful times never shake the air of woe . . . .

Those who live in memories are never really dead." The House At Riverton

True love, it's like an illness. I never understood it before. In books and plays. Poems. I never understood what drove otherwise intelligent, right-thinking people to do such extravagant, irrational things. Now I do. It's an illness. You can catch it when you least expect. There's no known cure. And sometimes, in its most extreme, it's fatal.