“Normality wasn't in the days I'd left behind me: it was only to be found in whatever fortune placed in my path each morning.”

“Yes," I say. "Three of these flying birds."I touch my collarbone, marking the path of their flight - toward my heart. One for each member of the family I left behind.”

“I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.”

“The Gentle GardenerI'd like to leave but daffodils to mark my little way,To leave but tulips red and white behind me as I stray;I'd like to pass away from earth and feel I'd left behindBut roses and forget-me-nots for all who come to find.I'd like to sow the barren spots with all the flowers of earth,To leave a path where those who come should find but gentle mirth;And when at last I'm called upon to join the heavenly throngI'd like to feel along my way I'd left no sign of wrong.And yet the cares are many and the hours of toil are few;There is not time enough on earth for all I'd like to do;But, having lived and having toiled, I'd like the world to findSome little touch of beauty that my soul had left behind.”

“If it was true that all paths in our World led to only one place, then why not fill whatever path you chose with the best things you could find?”

“Fortunately, he'd found that most people were easy to locate at five thirty in the morning.”