You know how cats do. They hide to die. Dogs come home.

Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.

We routinely leave our small children in day care among strangers. At the same time, in our guilt we evince paranoia about strangers and foster fear in children.

We can only learn so much and live.

There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named -- the happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.

You would think such a day would tremble to begin . . .

A census taker tried to quantify me once. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a big Amarone. Go back to school, little Starling.