As The Week Wore On, Ivan Contemplated

People Give Themselves To You, In Their Talking, And In Other Ways, If You Are Quiet And Patient And Let Them, And Not In Such A Damned Rush To Give Yourself To Them You Go Bat-blind And Deaf.

The Good Face Pain. But The Great? They Embrace It.

He's Not Too Short. He's Just... Concentrated.

My Home Is Not A Place, It Is People.

I'm Not Getting It All Sorted, She Worried. I'm Not Getting It Right. You Are Brilliant, The Voice Reassured Her. It Is Imperfect. So Are All Things Trapped In Time. You Are Brilliant, Nonetheless. How Fortunate For Us That We Thirst For Glorious Souls Rather Than Faultless Ones, Or We Should Be Parched Indeed, And Most Lonely In Our Perfect Righteousness. Carry On Imperfectly, Shining Ista.