Contempt Mates Well With Pity.

A Loud Voice Is Not Always Angry; A Soft Voice Not Always To Be Dismissed; And A Well-placed Silence Can Be The Indisputable Last Word.

She Could Walk Through A Lightning Storm Without Being Touched; Grab A Bolt Of Lightning In The Palm Of Her Hand; Use The Heat Of Lightning To Start The Kindling Going Under Her Medicine Pot. She Turned The Moon Into Salve, The Stars Into Swaddling Cloth, And Healed The Wounds Of Every Creature Walking Up On Two Or Down On Four.

Sometimes Being A Friend Means Mastering The Art Of Timing. There Is A Time For Silence. A Time To Let Go... And A Time To Prepare To Pick Up The Pieces When It's All Over.

It's As If I've Arrived In A Place Where It's All Spirit And No Body -- An Overwhelming Sense Of Calm . . . I Actually Began To Feel Blessed.

The Music In His Laughter Had A Way Of Rounding Off The Missing Notes In Her Soul.