The mind plays tricks. It rejects things until it thinks ― or something tells it ― that the remembering can be handled.
And then the earth, the world, the planet, the galaxy, and the entire solar system went crazy.
Truth is neither joyful nor sad, neither good nor bad. It is simply truth.
She's an old soldier's woman, and she has antennae for things that often escape the officer in the field.
There is nothing in a crowded street more noticeable than a man running ― unless it is a woman.
When the old men kill themselves, the cities are dying.
Strangers should meet in unfamiliar areas. It's comforting.
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