His mother called such people ignorant and superstitious, but his father only shook his head slowly and puffed his pipe and said that sometimes old stories had a grain or two of truth in them and it was best not to take chances. It was why, he said, he crossed himself whenever a black cat crossed his path.

Let me tell you something my friend. Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope can drive a man insane.

Sometimes loving eyes don't see what they don't want to see.

...maybe the world needs a cadre of smartasses to liven things up, who knows?

You see something, then it clicks with something else, and it will make a story. But you never know when it's going to happen.

The wind makes you ache is some place that is deeper than your bones. It may be that it touches something old in the human soul, a chord of race memory that says Migrate or die - migrate or die.

What can be done when you’re eleven can often never be done again.