No One Can Steal Our Dream.

Sometimes I See Things, I Think. Out Of The Corner Of My Eye, Taunting Me, And Then It’s Gone. And Dreams. Such Horrible Dreams. What If Something Terrible Happened To Me? What If I Am Damaged?" The Rain Is A Cool Kiss On My Sleeve As I Link My Arm With Hers. "we’re All Damaged Somehow.

It Is A Giggle Full Of High Spirits And Merry Mischief, Proof That We Never Lose Our Girlish Selves, No Matter What Sort Of Women We Become.

Pastoralia By George Saunders. Possibly My Favorite Book. Its One Of The Weirdest Books Ive Ever Read. If Monty Python And Thomas Pynchon Had A Love Child, And It Was Raised By Frank Zappa On A Weird Commune, That Would Be This Book.

You Can’t Blame A Fella For Kissing The Prettiest Girl In New York, Can You, Sister?” Sam’s Grin Was Anything But Apologetic. Evie Brought Up Her Knee Quickly And Decisively, And He Dropped To The Floor Like A Grain Sack. “you Can’t Blame A Girl For Her Quick Reflexes Now, Can You, Pal?

They Would Place Their Hands Together Inside The Circle So That They Could Walk In Each Other's Dreams. It Forged A Bond That Could Not Be Broken. The Circle Represents Love In Eternity. For There Is No Beginning And No End.