I Hate This Place. I Shall Hate

I Am So Anxious For You Not To Abdicate And I Think The Fact That You Do Is Going To Put Me In The Wrong Light To The Entire World Because They Will Say That I Could Have Prevented It.

I Hate This Place. I Shall Hate It To My Grave.

All This Was Mine; But I Was A Long Time Learning That Wisdom And Experience Are Things Apart; That To Taste Life Is Not To Be Confused With Understanding What Life Is Really All About. The Shared Experiences, The Wisdom So Freely Proffered By Others, In Words And In Example, Rarely Swayed Me For Long. Came Another Day And The Import Was Gone, And Only The Echo Of The Laughter Remained. Experience Was A Revolving Sun In The Warmth Of Which I Was Content To Bask.

A Marriage, Even One That Goes Awry, Generates Claims And Needs That Persist Like An Afterglow Long After The Emotional Fire Is Burned Out.

There Is A Peacefulness, An Air Of Reflection, About A Rocking-chair That Attaches To No Other Moving Object.