Who Can Judge Another Man's Suffering?

Depression, Suffering And Anger Are All Part Of Being Human.

Reading Love Junkie Is Like Watching A Sleepwalker Taking A Stroll On A Freeway. All You Can Do Is Pray. Gorgeously Written, Piercingly Honest.

She Was Starting To Think There Might Be Such A Thing As Karma - That Repetition - Maybe You Lived Through The Same Thing Over And Over Until You Stopped Caring. Maybe Eventually It Got Less Intense, Until It Was Just Nothing.

I Wondered Why It Had To Be So Poisonous. Oleanders Could Live Through Anything, They Could Stand Heat, Drought, Neglect, And Put Out Thousands Of Waxy Blooms. So What Did They Need Poison For? Couldn't They Just Be Bitter? They Weren't Like Rattlesnakes, They Didn't Even Eat What They Killed. The Way She Boiled It Down, Distilled It, Like Her Hatred. Maybe It Was A Poison In The Soil, Something About L.a., The Hatred, The Callousness, Something We Didn't Want To Think About, That The Plant Concentrated In Its Tissues. Maybe It Wasn't A Source Of Poison, But Just Another Victim.

I Thought Clay Must Feel Happy In The Good Potter's Hand.