But his singing was unconscious and irrepressible - an expression of his native exuberance, the dreamy, buoyant soundtrack running through his head.
I open my heart to her and lay it on the table.
I wanted only a familiar voice, someone who knew me. Not some earlier, larval version of myself. . .
Shhh, it's okay Cait, Daddy will be back. I am going to take care of you, just like Uncle Drake takes care of Mommy. Shhh honey, you don't need to cry,"Jaks whispered.
The story of my family. . .changes with the teller.
The human heart: its expansions and contractions its electrics and hydraulics the warm tides that move and fill it. For years Art had studied it from a safe distance from many perspectives...he listened in fascination and revulsion, in envy and pity....
