...she's Understood The Power Of Stories. Their

Had Any Poet Adequately Described The Wretched Ugliness Of A Loved One Turned Inside Out With Grief?

Hope, How She Had Grown To Hate The Word. It Was An Insideious Seed Planted Inside A Person's Soul, Surviving Covertly On Little Tending, Then Flowering So Spectacularly That None Could Help But Cherish It.

Life Could Be Cruel Enough These Days Without The Truth Making It Worse.

Sometimes, Edie, A Person's Feelings Aren't Rational. At Least, They Don't Seem That Way On The Surface. You Have To Dig A Little Deeper To Understand What Lies At The Base

Time Had A Way Of Moulding People Into Shapes They Themselves No Longer Recognised.