But Sometimes What We Call 'memory' And

Distances And Days Existed In Themselves Then; They All Had A Story. They Were Not Barriers. If A Person Wanted To Get To The Moon, There Is A Way; It All Depended On Whether You Knew The Directions, On Whether You Knew The Story Of How Others Before You Had Gone. He Had Believed In The Stories For A Long Time, Until The Teachers At Indian School Taught Him Not To Believe In That Kind Of "nonsense". But They Had Been Wrong.

When Someone Dies, You Don't Get Over It By Forgetting; You Get Over It By Remembering, And You Are Aware That No Person Is Ever Truly Lost Or Gone Once They Have Been In Our Life And Loved Us, As We Have Loved Them.

Janice Gould Is One Of Our Best Poets. The Music Of Her Poetry Will Delight You, And Her Gentle Courageous Accounts Of Tribal, Family, And Personal History Make This Book Unforgettable. Doubters And Dreamers Is A Master-piece.

Being Alive Was All Right Then: He Had Not Breathed Like That For A Long Time.

Relationships. That's All There Really Is. There's Your Relationship With The Dust That Just Blew In Your Face, Or With The Person Who Just Kicked You End Over End. ... You Have To Come To Terms, To Some Kind Of Equilibrium, With Those People Around You, Those People Who Care For You, Your Environment.