Please," She Whispered As She

Mo Could Paint Pictures In The Empty Air With His Voice Alone.

I'm Perfectly Happy To Know The World At Secondhand. It's A Lot Safer.

Isn't It Odd How Much Fatter A Book Gets When You've Read It Several Times?" Mo Had Said..."as If Something Were Left Between The Pages Every Time You Read It. Feelings, Thoughts, Sounds, Smells...and Then, When You Look At The Book Again Many Years Later, You Find Yourself There, Too, A Slightly Younger Self, Slightly Different, As If The Book Had Preserved You Like A Pressed Flower...both Strange And Familiar.

Why Did Death Make Life Taste So Much Sweeter? Why Could The Heart Love Only What It Could Also Lose?

Meggie Folchart: Having Writer's Block? Maybe I Can Help. Fenoglio: Oh Yes, That's Right. You Want To Be A Writer, Don't You? Meggie Folchart: You Say That As If It's A Bad Thing. Fenoglio: Oh No, It's Just A Lonely Thing. Sometimes The World You Create On The Page Seems More Friendly And Alive Than The World You Actually Live In.