“I noticed again the bruised oaks nearby, and their gallant attempts to flourish as if their scars didn't exist. "Why did some of the oaks die and some survive?"Aimee gave me an elegant one-shoulder shrug. "Why do some people stay after a hurricane and why do some never come back?" She looked at me, her eyes measuring. "Why do some people continue to search for the missing, and others give up? I don't know. But I think sometimes a person has to be forced underwater to see if they're going to drown or swim.”

“But I think sometimes a person has to be forced underwater to see if they're going to drown or swim.”

“We were expecting to see you at the market.""Yes. Well. Some people thought I was dead. I was forced to keep a low profile.""Why . . . why did some people think you were dead?"The marquis looked at Richard with eyes that had seen too much and gone too far. "Because they killed me.”

“Why is life so difficult for some people and not for others?Why do some people have to struggle so much?”

“Some people see things that are and ask, Why? Some people dream of things that never were and ask, Why not? Some people have to go to work and don't have time for all that.”

“Some people try to turn back their odometers. Not me, I want people to know “why” I look this way. I’ve traveled a long way and some of the roads weren’t paved.”