Here Is The World, And

..this Indiscriminate Love Feels Entirely Serious To Her, As If Everything In The World Is Part Of A Vast, Inscrutable Intention And Everything In The World Has Its Own Secret Name, A Name That Cannot Be Conveyed In Language But Is Simply The Sight And Feel Of The Thing Itself.

You Want To Give Him The Book Of His Own Life, The Book That Will Locate Him, Parent Him, Arm Him For The Changes.

People Are More Than You Think They Are. And They're Less, As Well. The Trick Lies In Negotiating Your Way Between The Two.

There Is Just This For Consolation: An Hour Here Or There, When Our Lives Seem, Against All Odds And Expectations, To Burst Open And Give Us Everything We've Ever Imagined , Though Everyone But Children (and Perhaps Even They) Knows These Hours Will Inevitably Be Followed By Others, Far Darker And More Difficult. Still, We Cherish The City, The Morning, We Hope, More Than Anything, For More. Heaven Only Knows Why We Love It So.

That Summer When She Was Eighteen, It Seemed Anything Could Happen, Anything At All.