He might have been naive, but he didn't care; he said he's rather die with his heart on his sleeve than end up another cynic.

She wanted to tell him so mach, on the tarmac, the day he left. The world is run by brutal men and the surest proof is their armies. If they ask you to stand still, you should dance. If they ask you to burn the flag, wave it. If they ask you to murder, re-create.

So much of her time spent like this: dreaming up things to say and never quite saying them.

Part of me really wants to believe that hope is entirely available to all of us. We don't have to embrace it. It would be sentimental and silly to say that we all need it, but it is absolutely available to all of us.

Let it be. Silly song, really. You let it be, it returns. There's the truth. You let it be, it drags you to the ground. You let it be, it crawls up your walls.

The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough.

The world does not turn without moments of grace. Who cares how small.