Her cheek was as soft as the down of a dove's breast.
"Now know this in your heart, Mr. Crawford. Even though this is all you're gonna get--you would've done it. You would've killed him with a coulter or a stone or a gun or an oak stick. You can lie to yourself about mercy killings, and you can justify and reason and even take to the pulpit like every liar before you. But you know what you wanted, what you still want. You know, and in your folly, you hope."
Parables, folktales, and myths are surer guides to meaning than theology, philosophy, and physics.
We Ozarkers are a community of fertile minds who seek our inspiration in limestone bluffs and proud oaks, in dank caves and the freedom to think and speak. If freedom of the imagination dies in the Ozarks, it is doomed everywhere.