we love what we love and who we love who we love and why we love why we love and find a falling shoelace knotted and strung between the fingers of strangers

Nobody the dead man & Nobody the living Nobody is giving in & Nobody is giving Nobody hears me but just Nobody cares Nobody fears me but Nobody just stares Nobody belongs to me & Nobody remains No Nobody knows nothing All that remains are remains

Fate decides until challenged by the fated

It’s funny how you can live somewhere your whole life, but not really see it.

Jewelry, I'm telling you. It's a thing. And love. And maybe danger.

It’s funny how the good things are all tied up with the bad. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. But either way, you end up taking your sugar with your salt and your kicks with your kisses.

I grabbed Aunt Prue's tiny hand, her fingers as small as bare twigs in winter. I closed my eyes and took her other hand, twisting my strong fingers together with her frail ones. I rested my forehead against our hands and closed my eyes. I imagined lifting my head up and seeing her smiling, the tape and tubes gone. I wondered if wishing was the same thing as praying. If hoping for something badly enough could make it happen.