One impossible day, of an impossible month, of an impossible year.

Why do I act like this, agreeing when I really disagree, letting people force me to do things I don't want to do?

Everytime you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: That's it. That's my heart.

The morning air of the pasture turned steadily cooler. Day by day, the bright golden leaves of the birches turned more spotted as the first winds of winter slipped between the withered branches and across the highlands toward the southeast. Stopping in the center of the pasture, I could hear the winds clearly. No turning back, they pronounced. The brief autumn was gone.

What I feel for her is a wholly different emotion. It stands and walks on its own, living and breathing and throbbing and shaking me to the roots of my being.

She was hearing everything that went on in his heart, like a person who can trace a map with his fingertip and conjure up vivid, living scenery.

This was never any place I was meant to be. This isn’t a place for me.