Fresh peach pie can lift a bullying reprobate into apologetic courtesy; I have watched it happen.

Once in my life I knew a grief so hard I could actually hear it inside, scraping at the lining of my stomach, an audible ache, dredging with hooks as rivers are dredged when someone's been missing too long. I have to think my mother felt something like that.

Of all facial expressions, which is the worst to have aimed at you? Wouldn't you agree it's disgust?

It is one thing to say you're at war with this whole world and stick your chest out believing it, but when the world shows up with it's crushing numbers and its predatory knowledge, it is another thing completely.

I remember it as October days are always remembered, cloudless, maple-flavored, the air gold and so clean it quivers.

So thoughtlessly we sling on our destinies.

Why is it our failures only show us more clearly the people we are failing?