In A Weird Way I Must Have

This Is The Autumn Of Wonders, Yet Every Day, Every Single Day, I Go Back To That Burned Afternoon In August When T. Ray Left. I Go Back To That One Moment When I Stood In The Driveway With Small Rocks And Clumps Of Dirt Around My Feet And Looked Back At The Porch. And There They Were. All These Mothers. I Have More Mothers Than Any Eight Girls Off The Street. They Are The Moons Shining Over Me.

Have You Ever Written A Letter You Knew You Could Never Mail But You Needed To Write It Anyway?

Sometimes You Want To Fall On Your Knees And Thank God In Heaven For All The Poor News Reporting That Goes On In The World.

Stopping Is A Spiritual Art. It Is The Refuge Where We Drink Life In.

I Can't Think Of Anything I'd Rather Have More Than Somebody Lovin' Me.