“To him, perpetual thought of death was a sin. Drive your cart and your plow over the bones of the dead.”
“T’ain’t no sin to take off your skin, and dance around in your bones.”
“You can't plow a field simply by turning it over in your mind.”
“Loving him was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street; faster than the winds, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly.”
“If you sin yourself and grieve even unto death for your sins or for your sudden sin, then rejoice for others, rejoice for the righteous man, rejoice that if you have sinned, he is righteous and has not sinned.”
“Your perpetual loop of teen angst? Or as you put it, your own personal episode of 'Dawson's Creek' playing over and over, like a demented 'Groundhog Day'?”