On a Lighter Note

I love singing.

I love Dancing

~~I am sorry Kane, that we never dance anymore. I miss it.

I love playing the Piano.. I need to be better.

I love God

I love my Scriptures.

I love my journal

I love Ella Enchanted

~~Dear Ella,

Impatience is not usually my weakness. But your letters torment me. They make me long to saddle my hourse and ride to Frell, where I would make you explain yourself.

they are playful, interesting, thoughtful, and (occasionally) Serious. I'm overjoyed to receive them, yet thye bring misery. You say little of your daily life; I hace no idea how you occupy yourself. I don't mind; I enjoy guessing at the mystery. But whata I really long to know you do not tell either: What you feel, although I've given you hints by the score of my regard.

You like me. You wouldn't waste time or paper on a being you didn't like. But I think I've loved you since we met at your mothers funeral. I want to be with you forever and beyond, buy you write that you are too young to marry or too old or too short or too hungry -- until I crumple your letters up in despair, only to smooth them out again for a twelfth reading, hunting for hidden meanings.

Father asks frequently in his letters whether I fancy any Ayorthaian young lady or any in our acquaintance at home. I say no. I suppose I'm confessing another fault: pride. I don't want him to know that I love if my affections are not returned.

You would charm him, and Mother too. They would be yours Completely. As I am.

What a beaufiful bride you'll be, whomever you marry at whatever age. and what a queen if I am the man! Who has your grace? Your expression? Your voice? I could extol your virtues endlessly, but I want you to finish reading and answer me quickly.

Today I cannot write of Ayortha or my doings or anything. I can only post this and wiat.

Love ( it is such a relief to pen the word!), love, love--

Char

I love that letter... it is amazing

I love Ever

I love Horseradish -- bitter truths you can't avoid.

~it is always cruel to laugh at people, of course, although sometimes if they are wearing an ugly hat it is hard to control yourself.

~Normally it is not polite to go into somebody's room without knocking, but you can make an exception if the person is dead, or pretending to be dead.

~Taking one's chances is like taking a bath, because sometimes you end up feeling comforable and warm, and sometimes there is something terrible lurking around that you cannont see until it is too late and you can do nothing else but scream and cling to a plastic duck.

~Many old folktales protray Death as a cloacked figure who knocks on the doors of the souls he has come to whicsk away, but that is not always the way of the world. Sometimes Deathe may approach the door very slowly and very loudly, so that by the time he knocks everyone in the neighborhood is aware of his approach, or he may prefer to pick the lock of the back door and sit up all night in your kitchen until you stroll downstairs in your bathrobe and learn that he has been waiting for you, sitting in your favorite chair and rearranging your silverwear when he got bored.

Love is a wonderful thing, something not everyone has but everyone wants

Not all things are liked, but everything is loved.

Even when the world hates you, friends ditch you, and loved ones spit you would and shake you like a dog, God loves you... and so does your mom.

I love my LIFE!