When nothing becomes the vocal Then nothing becomes the focal And nothing’s becoming at all
Letters to my MotherChanges is the mother of time. Absence of changes makes no time.
My Ancestor Was an Ancient AstronautIt is, I admit, mere imagination; but how often is imagination the mother of truth?
The Valley of FearSmaller plates discourage gluttony. But so does dining with dwarves.
A Zebra is the Piano of the Animal KingdomI'm just a regular mother who's trying to save lives and be the best human being I can be.
Cindy Sheehan