If all we are allowed is hours, minutes, I want to be able to etch each of them on to my memory with exquisite clarity so that I can recall them at moments like this, when my very soul feels blackened.

Just live well. Just live

He smelt of the sun, as if it had seeped deep into his skin, and I found myself inhaling silently, as if he were something delicious.

When you put someone down all the time, eventually they stop listening to the sensible stuff.

I held him close and said nothing, all the while telling him silently that he was loved. Oh, but he was loved.

Sometimes life is a series of obstacles, a matter of putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes, she realizes suddenly, it is simply a matter of blind faith.

How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?