I can understand that memory must be selective, else it would choke on the glut of experience. What I cannot understand is why it selects what it does.

Love by its presence, like God by His, makes everything not necessarily clear or right or even good, but acceptable. Whereas in its absence, as in His, there is no hope.

In Reno, there is always a bull market, never a bear market, for the stocks and bonds of happiness.

Words have their genealogy, their history, their economy, their literature, their art and music, as too they have their weddings and divorces, their successes and defeats, their fevers, their undiagnosable ailments, their sudden deaths. They also have their moral and social distinctions.

There is no plummet to sound another's soul.

Perhaps it is the expediency in the political eye that blinds it.

However often marriage is dissolved, it remains indissoluble. Real divorce, the divorce of the heart and nerve and fiber, does not exist, since there is no divorce from memory.