The World Like Our Heads Was Meant

The Whole House Seemed To Exhale A Melancholy Breath Of Emptiness

I Don't Care What Is Written," Meyer Landsman Says. "i Don't Care What Supposedly Got Promised To Some Sandal-wearing Idiot Whose Claim To Fame Is That He Was Ready To Cut His Own Son's Throat For The Sake Of A Hare-brained Idea. I Don't Care About Red Heifers And Patriarchs And Locusts. A Bunch Of Old Bones In The Sand. My Homeland Is In My Hat. It's In My Ex-wife's Tote Bag.

I Thought, I Fanced, That In A Moment, I Would Be Standing On Nothing At All, And For The First Time In My Life, I Needed The Wings None Of Us Has.

It Was The Kind Of Promise A Father Makes Easily And Sincerely, Knowing At The Same Time That It Will Be Impossible To Keep. The Truth Of Some Promises Is Not As Important As Whether Or Not You Can Believe In Them, With All Your Heart. A Game Of Baseball Can't Really Make A Summer Day Last Forever. A Home Run Can't Really Heal All The Broken Places In Our World, Or In A Single Human Heart. And There Was No Way That Mr. Feld Could Keep His Promise Never To Leave Ethan Again. All Parents Leave Their Children One Day.

I’m A Man Who Falls In Love So Easily, And With Such Reckless Lack Of Consideration For The Consequences Of My Actions, That From The Very First Instant Of Entering Into A Marriage I Become, Almost By Definition, An Adulterer.