Sometimes I wonder if there is something about my family which invites violence. 'Is it envy,' you ask? I don't know... I've had so much, a son as president, two as senators, a son-in-law who's an ambassador... perhaps God doesn't permit that much.
I know not age, nor weariness nor defeat.
It is selfish to concern oneself with tragedies.
Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel as free to delight in whatever sunlight remains to them?
In my life, I am often reminded that there is a destiny that rules over us, because no one whom I know about or whom I read about seems to be completely happy during a long time.
I am just an old-fashioned girl.
