My Mother Raised Me To Be A

Rape Is A Crime Against Sleep And Memory; It's Afterimage Imprints Itself Like An Irreversible Negative From The Camera Obscura Of Dreams.

There Is No Downside To Winning. It Feels Forever Fabulous.

My Mother Thought Of My Father As Half Barbarian And Half Blunt Instrument, And She Isolated Him From His Children.

She Had Awakened Something In Him That Had Slumbered Far Too Long. Not Only Did He Feel Passion, He Felt The Return Of Hope.

I Think I Learned About The Relationship Between Books And Life From Margaret Mitchell.