I wanted you to thank you for being my friend and letting me play a part in your story.

Yet, ironically, it is her very wretchedness that makes me pity her so. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know what to do!

Most of all I grieve for my soul because even though I do, finally, believe there is a God, and that I have met him, I do not know if he has given me an immortal soul, but only one that was to last me as long as my body lasted. I do not know if when the last page of my book is closed, that will be the end of me.

They are all I have left—the stars and the memory of the many times I wished upon them. But with all those wishes, I asked for only one thing. To see him again. But I will not see him again. I do not see him now.

True courage, in the face of almost certain death, is the rarest quality on earth.

You will see that the things you desire most are the very things that bring you the greatest sorrow.

Before I begin, may I ask how old you are?" "You may ask." "How old are you?" "It's none of your business