“When we started walking to the computer room, I thought I was pretty prepared because I had managed to withdraw the balled-up outline worksheet from the paper graveyard under my bed.”

“I read it over and over again. I turned it over, turned it back, smoothed it out on my pillow and then read it some more. It was written on a piece of torn-out spiral notebook paper. It had seams like it had been folded and unfolded a few times. I looked into the manila envelope again to see if there was anything else. There wasn't.”

“I looked around the cafeteria. There was a little paper product city set-up on one of the folding tables next to the empty salad bar- stacks of napkins, towers of cups.”

“Everyday we have to go to classroom 107A, where portions of English, math and social studies are meted out like different nutrients of a hospital diet.”

“Life is the greatest of all mysteries, and though I seek to solve its many riddles, my deepest fear is that I will succeed.”

“Some of them were confused and angry, but given the same circumstances, I was convinced that I would have turned out just like them. It was the difference in where we were born, and to whom, that separated us---not the difference of who we were.”

“When I come to the end of my life ― when I come to the real end, at the right time, my mind may flash with random images... But I am not being hopeful about this when I say my last thoughts will be of love.”