Joseph Obomsawin, The Elder I Lived With

It Takes Two People To Make A Lie Work: The Person Who Tells It, And The One Who Believes It.

Memories Are Like A Still Life Painted By Ten Different Student Artists: Some Will Be Blue-based; Others Red; Some Will Be As Stark As Picasso And Others As Rich As Rembrandt; Some Will Be Foreshortened And Others Distant. Recollections Are In The Eye Of The Beholder; No Two Held Up Side By Side Will Ever Quite Match.

Where Did You Go?" "to The End Of The Driveway," My Mother Says. "i Was Nine Months Pregnant; That Was The Maximum Distance I Could Waddle Without Feeling As If My Uterus Was Falling Out." I Wince. "do You Have To Be Quite So Graphic?" "what Would You Like Me To Call It, Zoe? A Fetal Living Room?

What Being Home-schooled Has Taught Me, More Than Anything, Is What A Waste Of A Life High School Is.

I Think This Is Every Mother's Worst Nightmare - Something Dreadful Happening To Her Child.