A girl who is thirteen-which is hard, and difficult, and beautiful, and painful, and exhilarating.

Tradionally, parents made decisions for a child, because presumably they are looking out for his or her best interests. But if they are blinded, instead, by the best interests of another one of their children, the system breaks down.

I found plain truth very interesting.

The thinnest slice would be teeming with memories of a love so strong it turned you inside out and left you gasping, and would be an identical match to a slice stored in the heart of a soul mate.

If you loved someone, really loved them, would you let them go?

There was a difference between people looking at you because they wanted to be like you, and people looking at you because your misfortune brought them one rung higher.

I don't know what it is about death that makes it so hard. I suppose it's the one-sided communication; the fact that we never get to ask our loved one if she suffered, if she is happy wherever she is now...if she is somewhere. It's the question mark that comes with death that we can't face, not the period.