but it’s wrong what they say about the past, I’ve learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out.

and yet she was leaving the world as a woman who had love and been loved back. she was leaving it as a friend, a companion, a guardian. a mother. a person of consequence at last.

If he is going into management, he writes. If he is an engineer or architect why he paints or sculpts. He will straddle the line, aware up to the point of knowing he is getting the worst of both worlds, but never stopping to wonder why there should ever be a line, or even if there is a line at all.

I wish we could do something useful with tobacco - like making fertilizer out of it.

Written By Paul Dudley White

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