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— Jeaniene Frost"Before we met, I'd fly for hours to clear my head," Bones said, his voice reaching me even over the rush of wind. "It was the closest I came to finding peace, but though several of my mates could fly, I always went alone. I never wanted to share this with anyone until you."
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The trauma said, ‘Don’t write these poems. Nobody wants to hear you cry about the grief inside your bones.
— Andrea Gibson
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As one old gentleman put it, " Son, I don't care if you're stark nekkid and wear a bone in your nose. If you kin fiddle, you're all right with me. It's the music we make that counts.
— Robert Fulghum
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