Sometimes It Was Harder To Change The

Ursula Craved Solitude But She Hated Loneliness, A Conundrum That She Couldn’t Even Begin To Solve.

When You Chopped Logs With The Ax And They Split Open They Smelled Beautiful, Like Christmas. But When You Split Someone's Head Open It Smelled Like Abattoir And Quite Overpowered The Scent Of The Wild Lilacs You'd Cut And Brought Into The House Only This Morning, Which Was Already Another Life.

He Was Born A Politician. No, Ursula Thought, He Was Born A Baby, Like Everyone Else. And This Is What He Has Chosen To Become.

I Can't Help But Think That It's An Unfortunate Custom To Name Children After People Who Come To Sticky Ends. Even If They Are Fictional Characters, It Doesn't Bode Well For The Poor Things. There Are Too Many Judes And Tesses And Clarissas And Cordelias Around. If We Must Name Our Children After Literary Figures Then We Should Search Out Happy Ones, Although It's True They Are Much Harder To Find.

Time Was A Thief, He Stole Your Life Away From You And The Only Way You Could Get It Back Was To Outwit Him And Snatch It Right Back.