And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died. — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
We humans can never claim to do nothing, we breath, we pulse, we regenerate. — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
Even though she saw tattoos everywhere, they continued to fascinate her. How bizarre to be branded like a box of cereal. Didn't people mind… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
If these were indications of new love, as Sergei expected they were, then he was not surprised. All that scraping and arguing, the teasing… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
Birds fascinated her. How did they do that, seeming to fly with one mind, each of them able to anticipate what the others would… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
When King Lear dies in act five, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He has written, 'He dies.' No more. No fanfare, no… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
You become the monster you fear the worst, so the monster won't overtake you. — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
“When had all this conformity and sameness set in? How had it happened? When had the varied carols turned into a single corporate advertising… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
There are a million things one might do with a block of wood. But what do you think might happen if someone, just once,… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest… — Suzanne Weyn Copy Share Image
