As She Brought Prospective Buyers Through, The

Well, It's My Voice, So It's More Accessible That Way, And There Are Also All Sorts Of Things Like Plot And Timelines That Are Already Known Entities, So For Me, It's Very Different From Writing Fiction.

But She Was Waiting Patiently. She No Longer Believed In Talk. It Never Rescued Anything. At Seventy She Had Come To Believe In Time Alone. ~pg 254

For Me, Heaven Would Be A Lack Of Alienation. The Whole Time I Was Growing Up, I Felt Comfort Was Inherently Evil. I Think That For Me Heaven Isn't About Couches And Milk Shakes And Never Having A Troubling Thought Again.

I'm Just A Friendly Bystander Who They Occasionally Ask Questions Of. That's My Level Of Involvement.

Almost Everyone In Heaven Has Someone On Earth They Watch, A Loved One, A Friend Or Even A Stranger Who Was Once Kind, Who Offered Warm Food Or A Bright Smile When One Of Us Had Needed It. And When I Wasn’t Watching I Could Hear The Others Talking To Those They Loved On Earth: Just As Fruitlessly As Me, I’m Afraid. A One-sided Card Cajoling And Coaching Of The Young, A One Way Loving And Desiring Of Their Mates, A Single-sided Card That Could Never Get Signed.