Bleeding Heart, He’d Called Her. Well. He

If You Ask Me, Music Is The Language Of Memory

Things Had A Way Of Working Out For The Best When You Let Them Run Their Course.

History Could Hover, Like A Faint Perfume Or A Memory Stamped On The Back Of One's Eyelids.

You Don't Make Peace Only With G-d. You Make It With People. Sin Isn't Global. It's Personal. If You Do Wrong To Someone, The Only Way To Fix That Is To Go To That Same Person And Do Right By Him.

How Many Times Would I Throw This Away Before I Realized It Was What I Had Been Looking For All Along?