Anyways, there's this wonderful homey feeling, and even something sacred about these places that make people talk in hushed whispers when they're inside. A few have even worse reasons than you think for that silence. Something dark, that you'd probably want to have sleep for at least your own lifetime. Forget the kids lives, or the grandkids, just your lifetime. That's enough to ask for, isn't it? He flatly replied, "Only if you call my mother's garden a city..." "Young man," I squeaked, "Where is your mother's garden at?" I tried making a quick lie up as he shrugged and stopped counting.