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.

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

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

Mrs. Reed grabbed Kayla's wrist. "Good. You haven't gotten that damned tattoo. Whatever you do, don't let them make you get it.

You become the monster you fear the worst, so the monster won't overtake you.

If these were indications of new love, as Sergei expected they were, then he was not surprised. All that scraping and arguing, the teasing and playful antagonism, could only mean on thing. It was a sure sign of attraction.

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