Yeah. Sure. My brother's dead. My mother's insame. Hey, let's have a crepe.

I could almost hear the characters inside, murmuring and jostling, impatient for me to open the cover and let them out.

She was everything he wanted from his life, the very measure of his dreams.

Because beautiful things never last. Not roses nor snow… And not fireworks, either

Life’s all about the revolution, isn’t it? The one inside, I mean. You can’t change history. You can’t change the world. All you can ever change is yourself.

A new word. Bright with possibilities. A flawless pearl to turn over and over in my hand, then put away for safekeeping.

He's wearing boots, a kilt, and a long-sleeve tee. No coat, even though it's December. Beautiful people don't need coats. They've got their auras to keep them warm.