Quiet is turning down the volume knob on life.

Her impulse, her need, to be the corrector of injustices, warden of the downtrodden flock. And

A pathetic shadow, torn between her envy and thrill of being seen with Masomma, sharing in the attention as a weed would, lapping up water meant for the lily upstream.

Time can be a greedy thing-sometimes it steals the details for itself.

It's a funny thing... but people mostly have it backward. They think they live by what they want. But really, what guides them is what they're afraid of. What they don't want.

about clichés. Avoid them like the plague.

Nothing good came free. Even love. You paid for all things. And if you were poor, suffering was your currency.