Torn Between The Impulse To Stroke His

Tell Him I Hate Him To His Guts And The Marrow Of His Bones!

Overall, The Library Held A Hushed Exultation, As Though The Cherished Volumes Were All Singing Soundlessly Within Their Covers.

But We Are Here, All Of Us. And We're Here Because I Love You, More Than The Life That Was Mine. Because I Believed You Loved Me The Same Way...will You Tell Me That's Not True? No, He Said After A Moment, So Softly I Could Barely Hear Him. His Hand Tightened Harder On Mine. No, I Willna Tell Ye That. Not Ever, Claire.

Roger Speaking To Brianna: It's Too Important. You Don't Forget Having A Dad." You Do Remember Your Father?" No. I Remember Yours.

There Were Moments, Of Course. Those Small Spaces In Time, Too Soon Gone, When Everything Seems To Stand Still, And Existence Is Balanced On A Perfect Point, Like The Moment Of Change Between The Dark And The Light, And When Both And Neither Surround You.