On a small planet, where minute follows minute, day follows day, year follows year, where tradition marches on with a deafening, orderly beat -sometimes the order is disturbed by a dreamer, an artist, a scribbler - sometimes the beat is changed one person at a time.

There are many words and definitions I have never lost. But some I am only just beginning to truly understand.

There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you.

I think that maybe forgiveness is like change - it comes in small steps. (256)

Things I can feel. Hard. Soft. Rough. Smooth. But the inside kind of feel, it is all the same, like foggy mush. Is that the part of me that is still asleep? (9)

There are a lot of memories we imagine. We play them over and over in our minds, trying to orchestrate our movements and words to perfection. Or maybe it's just that I've lived inside of my head more than any other person in the history of the world. Maybe none of us can really predict how we will act at any give moment. Maybe we're all at the mercy of circumstance in spite of our well-laid plans.

I just think perfection and lasting through the ages is for Greek statues, not us mere humans.