Smitty isn’t Schulte. He doesn’t drive a Cadillac and doesn’t hit his wife often any more. Schulte, on the other hand,

Rose was a plain girl from a small town. She sang in the choir, never missed Bible study, left for the big city

If the greatest of these is charit… then tell me again why it’s gauche if this young man in a booth at a bar

I turn the porch light on at 4 a.m… to see if a miracle’s occurred and the paper’s landed somewhere in the snow blanketing our lawn. Instead I see a clump on the mat

Although we’ll never again be body to body or mind to mind, you and the place and the years are alive every night in the lette… I’ve stored in my room.

Trumpelstiltskin is a fairy tale not written by the Brothers Grimm… It’s written every day by Fox and… America hears it every hour and half the nation loves it

I wish he had never come out from behind the stove, that spider I stepped on at 4 a.m. He was a big one bothering no one.

Decades ago a small college out in the boondocks put Ambrose, a freshman, on a Greyhound Bus to attend a student convention in New York.

Like the poor the sparrows we will always have with us, my neighbor lady tells me as she feeds the birds

Praise for Him coming from us is like the bark of a terrier at the foot of his master

Only the blind man with his leader dog and tapping cane stops when the homeless man standing near the curb

In the fall we lose an hour in most of the United States when we have to turn our clocks back. This is not the case

The Sixties almost killed Will, a wasted man who sobered up long enough to vote for JFK. And he’d have voted for RFK if he hadn’t been killed as well.

Hearts are stopping faster than usual among people I know and people I don’t married to other people