It is something that is called MDS. It is a rare blood disorder that affects the bone marrow. I'm going to beat this. My doctors say it and my faith says it.
Death is someone you see very clearly with eyes in the center of your heart: eyes that see not by reacting to light but by reacting to a kind of a chill from within the marrow of your own life.
He's as cool as a prized marrow!
Oh literature oh the glorious Art how it preys upon the marrow in our bones. It scoops the stuffing out of us and chucks us aside. Alas!
My father always taught by telling stories about his experiences. His lessons were about morality and art and what insects and birds and human beings had in common. He told me what it meant to be a man and to be a Black man. He taught me about love and responsibility about beauty and how to make gumbo.