Nail the mind with pretty little push-pins of red and blue, dissect its parts and place them in jars of words and pictures. Slip them in infinite glass shelves. Set them on display and you have a blog ||
"I can straighten out your crooked bones, if you do the same for my crooked soul. I may not be able to do much, and I may not have much, but I can promise you that I will love you for as long as I live—until our hands become wrinkly enough to tell stories."