“She is beautiful, isn’t she? (Lochlan) Like the first day of spring after a long, harsh winter. (Sin)” — Kinley MacGregor Copy Share Image
Ingratitude is the frost that nips the flower even as it opens, that shrivels the generous apple on the branch, that freezes the fountain in mid-flow and numbs the hand, even in the very act of giving. It is a… — Ann Wroe Copy Share Image
