The sky is blue today, Max, and there is a big long cloud, and it's stretched out, like a rope. At the end of it, the sun is like a yellow hole. . .

Sometimes I just survive. But sometimes I stand on the rooftop of my existence, arms stretched out, begging for more.

She didn't dare to look up, but she could feel their frightened eyes hanging onto her as she hauled the words in and breathed them out. A voice played the notes inside her. This, it said, is your accordion.

For a moment, I panic. It's that feeling of falling when you know without question, that you've lost control of your car, or made a mistake that's beyond repair. 'What do I do now?' I ask desperately. 'Tell me! What do I do now?' He remains calm. He looks at me closely and says, 'Keep living, Ed... It's only the pages that stop here.

The question is what color will everything be at that moment when I come for you? What will the sky be saying?

Can a wolfe be beautiful?

I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking such things...' She let the sentence die its own death