The only thing you have to do in this life is die," said Mrs. Pinsky..."everything else is a choice.
We were a different kind of Christian, the quiet, reasonable kind, a breed embarrassed by the mention of miracles.
We were like wanderers in a desert, blessed with a rare downpour, but unable to store the rain.
This was the first time I noticed it, the inevitable space between father and man.
But the past is long, and the future is short.
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