With Slow Care Rather Than Stealth We

Anger Can Keep You Warm At Night, And Wounded Pride Can Spur A Man To Wondrous Things.

I Have Heard What Poets Write About Women. They Rhyme And Rhapsodize And Lie. I Have Watched Sailors On The Shore Stare Mutely At The Slow-rolling Swell Of The Sea. I Have Watched Old Soldiers With Hearts Like Leather Grow Teary-eyed At Their King's Colors Stretched Against The Wind. Listen To Me: These Men Know Nothing Of Love. You Will Not Find It In The Words Of Poets Or The Longing Eyes Of Sailors. If You Want To Know Of Love, Look To A Trouper's Hands As He Makes His Music. A Trouper Knows.

You're Sure Your New Roommate Won't Be Like The Last One Who Wore Tinfoil Socks And Had A Tendency To Occasionally Urinate In The Refrigerator. You're Sure You'll Pass Math 106 This Time Around. You're Determined To Actually Join Some Clubs This Year And Not Just Sit Around In Your Dorm Eating Spray Cheese From A Can And Watching Youtube Videos About Cats.

You Never Do Things The Easy Way, Do You?" She Said. "there's An Easy Way?" I Asked.

My Mom Once Lost Track Of Me At The Zoo And When She Found Me I Was Lecturing A Man About The Difference Between Dromedary And Bactrian Camels. I Was About 3 1/2.