***A KEY WORD*** Imagined

It amazes me what humans can do, even when streams are flowing down their faces and they stagger on, coughing and searching, and finding.

If only she could be so oblivious again, to feel such love without knowing it, mistaking it for laughter.

As far as this categorization of books, the way I see it is there are really a hundred-odd categories of books plus one, and on the top shelf at home, I've got the books I love, my favorite books, and that's the type of book that I want to write.

I want to talk to him. I want to ask him about that girl and if he loved her and still misses her. Nothing, however, exits my mouth. How well do we really let ourselves know each other? There's a long quietness until I finally break it open. It reminds me of someone breaking bread and handing it out. In my case, I hand out a question to my friend.

A snowball in the face is surely the perfect beginning to a lasting friendship.

The point is, it didn’t really matter what the book was about. It was what it meant that was important.