“My heart will always fly his name. I won’t go gentle. I’l find a way to soar like the angels in the stories and I will find him.”

“So in the middle of all the noise, I point to the sky. I hope he understands what I mean, because I mean so many things: My heart will always fly his name. I won't go gentle. I'll find a way to soar life the angels in the stories and I will find him.”

“Where will I find you now that my heart is yours?Where should I search? I don’t know where to look.You fill my heart with desire and love,The perfume of the lotus, the grace of a dove.But then the dove flies far, far away,All that is left is a song for my harp strings to play.A voice in my memories like an angel of grace,Where can I find you? Do you know how I pray?Where will I find you now that my love belongs to you?Wherever your heart beats, I’m dreaming of you.Now and forever my love belongs to you…Now and forever my love belongs to you…”

“I . . . am always half afraid of finding a clever novel too clever--& of finding my own story & my own people all forestalled.”

“Don’t ever scare me like that again, swinging on the rope.”“I won’t. I’ll find a new way,” she teased.”

“When I call his name, it’s a sound almost entirely out of my control. It soars over the crowd and hits him. Even from where I’m standing, I can tell that he recognized my voice. Hastily he unwinds himself from the girl, stands to attention like an animal sensing danger. And I try to call him again, but that word, that name, was all I had the energy for. I barely have the strength left to stand.I wait helplessly for him to find the sound, and when he does, when his heterochromatic eyes meet mine, my mouth forms the word again, but just barely. The girl at his side disappears. The crowd blurs into senseless shapes and colors. I can’t feel my heart or my body or the heat of the flames.I can only see his face—his bewildered, beautifully familiar face.”