No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

Birds fascinated her. How did they do that, seeming to fly with one mind, each of them able to anticipate what the others would do?

And if anyone asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest "He died.

Toy Empressario Wonder Afficianado Avid Shoewearer

It'll be okay." She didn't know if it would be okay or not. She somehow doubted it, but what else was there to say?

Mahoney: You have to live. Mr. Magorium: Darlin'...I have.

No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.