“Oftentimeswhen I read a book,I want to savoreach word,each phrase,each page,loving the proseso much,I don't want itto end.Other timesthe story pulls me in,and I can hardlyread fast enough,the details flying by,some of them lostbecause all that mattersis making surethe characteris all rightwhen it's over.”

“Many times when I read a book, I want to savor each word, each phrase, each page, loving the prose so much, I don’t want it to end. Other times the story pulls me in, and I can hardly read fast enough, the details flying by, some of them lost because all that matters is making sure the character is all right when it’s over.”

“I don't want to worryI don't want to be sadI have so much to be happy about”

“Today there's no one here, so I find a rock and open my notebookfilled with letters to Lucca,reading them,noticing how the lettersdecreased in frequencyover the past couple of months.When i started,shortly after he died,I wrote them every day.I hurt so bad, I wanted to scream,but I couldn't,so my words on the pagebecame a diary of the pain.”

“It brings me back to the moment, and I want to livethe moment with everything I’ve got.”

“How many days was I like that? Pretending to listen, but not hearing a word? Pretending to care when I hated it all? Pretending to live when I was dying inside?”

“To plan it all would take away from the fun and the excitement of what's to come. Let the day reveal itself to me in its own time, in its own way. I am yours, Today. I am yours.”