Paris itself represents the timeless values of human progress.
Those who think that they can terrorize the people of France or the values that they stand for are wrong.
~President Barack Obama
Paris has long been my ideal. While I concede that my love for Paris is romantic, mine is not a postcard passion prompted by landmarks or lovers or croissants. It is true love, borne of reverence and gratitude for liberty pledged to tolerance and humane consciousness.
Baby Honey died yesterday. “Baby Honey,” an apparent misnomer, as she was the sovereign grown-up and her temperament was not an easy and recognizable sweet. Baby Honey was a strong, old-fashioned, hat-wearing, proper, church-going, God-loving woman. And yet, as I mine memory, I realize that her name is indeed fitting, for thoughts of Baby Honey are inseparable from the sweet, verdant scent of Easter Sunday.