This is outrageous. We are hurt. As soon as the students calm down, they lose another student. We just hope we don't lose another student.

The children at the party were all nice children.

We are losing are children. The killing just has to stop. We just buried a child, and then this one.

What a strange thing is memory, and hope; one looks backward, the other forward; one is of today, the other of tomorrow. Memory is history recorded in our brain, memory is a painter, it paints pictures of the past and of the day.

You really hope that he's OK. He's a great player and you never want to see a player get hurt like that.

You'll stop hurting when you stop hoping.