Love Means Not Ever Having To Say

What Can You Say About A Twenty-five-year-old Girl Who Died?

What Can You Say About A Twenty-five Year Old Girl Who Died? That She Was Beautiful And Brilliant. That She Loved Mozart And Bach. The Beatles. And Me.

Although Science Could Pinpoint The Exact Spot In The Brain That Ignites Rage, They Had Yet To Identify The Location That Produces Love.

Sometimes I Amaze Even Myself.

He Had Then Warned His Daughter Not To Violate The Eleventh Commandment. "which One Is That?" I Asked Her. "do Not Bullshit Thy Father," She Said.