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?

Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.

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?

When King Lear dies in act five, do you know what Shakespeare has written? He has written, 'He dies.' No more. No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words. The culmination of the most influential piece of dramatic literature is, 'He dies.' Now I am not asking you to be happy at my leaving but all I ask you to do is to turn the page and let the next story begin. -- Mr. Magorium

Turn the page, continue reading, and let the next story begin.

There are a million things one might do with a block of wood. But what do you think might happen if someone, just once, believed in it?