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"Musgrave, Susan"
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Love you more
by
Musgrave, Susan, author
,
Melo, Esperanًca, illustrator
in
Love stories Juvenile fiction.
,
Love Fiction.
,
Stories in rhyme.
2014
\"A rhyming board book illustrating the love between parent and child, set against the backdrop of one full calendar year\"--Unedited summary from book.
ALL THE WILD WINDS OF THE WORLD GO HOWLING THROUGH YOU
by
MUSGRAVE, SUSAN
in
Two Poems
2013
Journal Article
from Given
2012
Earl, a big man with gray hair mussed up as if he'd been tossed out of bed, and everything he felt hidden behind chrome mirrors, hefted my prison-issue duffel bag marked property of california state correctional facility onto the seat beside me. In his country, for instance, during the ethnic cleansing, they had enlisted men serving life sentences for rape and murder, because they made the best soldiers.
Journal Article
The mindless touch
2011
\"Have you noticed that something called the Olympics is on?\" my daughter writes, in her daily email home. She is living in Berlin and for the last fortnight she says she has turned on the television, desperately seeking news of home, only to find all the channels preoccupied by figure skaters having a cry over gold medals while people are presumably still blowing each other up in Afghanistan. \"But what's a war compared to coming first in ice skating?\" she asks. \"Gold is a Girl's Best Friend,\" read the slogan-of-the-week at a gas station in my neighbourhood, (last week's was \"Most people know how to make a living but not how to make a life\" (hear hear). I have nothing against gold, per se - it's just that I've always found silver more understated. I am against what gold stands for - the idea that you can't win anything less. You're only a winner if everything you touch turns to gold. Perhaps I have my parents to thank, for not pushing me hard enough to become competitive. Had I arrived home from the Olympics with a gold medal around my neck my mother would have thanked God that their good money hadn't been wasted on skating lessons. My father, who maintained any fool could win, as long as there wasn't a second entry, would have said, \"let's see if you can do even better next year.\" They taught me a lesson I am still grateful for: I couldn't win.
Journal Article