He did not know that the child who had asked for yesterday was now seeking to own tomorrow.
Sticking with your family is what makes it a family.
Kids chase the love that eludes them, and for me, that was my father's love. He kept it tucked away, like papers in a briefcase. And I kept trying to get in there.
She was like a wound beneath an old bandage, and he had grown more used to the bandage.
You know what really offers you satisfaction? Offering others what you have to give.
How do people choose their final words? Do they realize their gravity? Are they fated to be wise?