I Left My Mark On That Man.

It's Something That I Know How To Do Because I Taught For A Very Long Time, So I Can Do It, And I Feel A Responsibility To Do It - For Instance, In This Situation, Where I'm Touring Specifically For This Period Of Time. But Most Writers Are Not Public People. There Are A Few Writers Out There Who Really Enjoy It And Are Good At It, And Can Both Work And Do That At The Same Time, But I'm Not One Of Those People.

Life Is A Perpetual Yesterday For Us.

But I Know I Would Not Go Out. I Had Taken This Time To Fall In Love Instead — In Love With The Sort Of Helplessness I Had Not Felt In Death — The Helplessness Of Being Alive, The Dark Bright Pity Of Being Human — Feeling As You Went, Groping In Corners And Opening Your Arms To Light - All Of It Part Of Navigating The Unknown.

Because Horror On Earth Is Real And It Is Every Day. It Is Like A Flower Or Like The Sun; It Cannot Be Contained.

My Father Had Not Been Outside The House Except To Drive Back And Forth To Work Or Sit Out In The Backyard, For Months, Nor Had He Seen His Neighbors. Now He Looked At Them, From Face To Face, Until He Realized I Had Been Loved By People He Didn't Even Recognize. His Heart Filled Up, Warm Again As It Had Not Been In What Seemed So Long To Him- Save Small Forgotten Moments With Buckley, The Accidents Of Love That Happened With His Son. ~pgs 209-210; Buckley, Lindsey And Jack On Susie