I was beginning to understand.My grandmother's love was cold because she was afraid of things;that was why everything had to be perfect.

...but now the worst crime was pretending to be something you were not.

Perhaps it is possible to discover more in silence than in speech. Or perhaps it is only that those who are silent among us learn to listen.

The evening had turned sweet and blue.

The best way to die is when your living

Are people drawn to each other because of the stories they carry inside? At the library I couldn’t help but notice which patrons checked out the same books. They appeared to have nothing in common, but who could tell what a person was truly made of? The unknown, the riddle, the deepest truth. I noticed them all: the ones who’d lost their way, the ones who’d lived their lives in ashes, the ones who had to prove themselves, the ones who, like me, had lost the ability to feel.

It was a great escape for me and it was a way to take a break from what was going on in my own world, to go into another world.