...appetite turns common food into the fare of kings.
I want the privilege of guiding the arrows of my children and giving them the exhortations that can shoot them into the high place.
It isn't fair that there's pressure exerted on those who choose to live on the edges of the bell-shaped curve of normal.
Plans can be like a winged horse, but their execution plods along pulling carts.
The way of surviving is to find meaning in suffering.
Books have always been to me like a kind of embalmed mind. The dead may be scattered, and who can find them, but their voices live in the library.