Who but my mother held those small pieces of my childhood? Where would they go when she was gone?
Small Beneath the Sky: A Prairie MemoirMen and women are hard ore, we do not go to slag in a mere few seasons of forge.
This House of Sky: Landscapes of a Western MindShe turned her painted blue eyes toward the assistant and said something in French before she left.
Carolina RainOur stories become self-fulfilling; we will always live up to the story. So make it a desired one
Don't Think Of a Blue BallA woman who does not guard and treasure herself cannot be of very much value to anyone else.
The Deep Blue Good-ByWe live in one world together. It's more important than ever to be friend to all.
GreenBean: True Blue Family