The Last Thing He Ever Said To Me Was, "Just Always Be Waiting For Me, And Then Some Night You Will Hear

B A D W O L F

Am I sounding creepy? Love is sort of creepy. When you fall in love, you presuppose all sorts of things about the person. You superimpose all kinds of ideals and fantasies on them. You create all manner of unrealistic, untenable, unsatisfiable criteria for that person, automatically guaranteeing their failure and your heartbreak. And what do we call it? Romance. Now, that’s creepy.

'Creepy and Maud' by Dianne Touchell

While our bodies move ever forward on the time-line, our minds continuously trace backward, seeking shape and meaning as deftly as an arrow seeking its mark.

'Autobiography of a Face' Lucy Grealy 

Without a keeper of words, stories tumble and fall, eventually melting into the ether, never to be heard of again. Stories link us to our mob, doesn't matter if you are Koorie, Irish, Kiwi, Welsh or Indian. It’s the listening and telling of these stories that bring our people close, both young and old. Stories keep our culture and our faith alive.

'Grace Beside Me' by Sue McPherson 

"I’m scared I’m going to spend the rest of my life in a state of yearning, regardless of where I am."

'The Piper's Son' by Melina Marchetta 

All children, except one, grow up.

'Peter Pan' by J. M. Barrie

Wishes are false. Hope is true. Hope makes its own magic.

'Daughter of Smoke and Bone' by Laini Taylor