I Spent A Week Living As A

When It Comes To Women, Get Your Life Together First. Put On Your Own Oxygen Mask First. Figure Out Who You Are. Mature. And Then Go Find Somebody To Share That Life With.

I Feel Like All This Stuff That We Make: Books And Art And Music, All Of It. There's This Energy That Circles The World That Wants To Be Made Manifest, And It Is Just Looking For Someone To Come Through. And It's Dying For You To Make It. And If You Don't Do It, It Will Go Find Somebody Else.

Now Imagine A Life In Which Every Day A Person Is Presented With Not Two Or Even Three But Dozens Of Choices, And You Can Begin To Grasp Why The Modern World Has Become, Even With All Its Advantages, A Neurosis-generating Machine Of The Highest Order.

When Catherine Told Me About This (tragedy Nearby), I Could Only Say, Shocked, "dear God, That Family Needs Grace." She Replied Firmly, "that Family Needs Casseroles," And Then Proceeded To Organize The Entire Neighborhood Into Bringing That Family Dinner, In Shifts, Every Single Night, For An Entire Year. I Do Not Know If My Sister Fully Recognizes That This _is_ Grace.

He Was Powerful And I Died Of Love In His Shadow.