“...time is not a willing captive. The days pass too soon, slipping through my fingers like sand. I grab for a moment, only to find it is no longer there. I take a photo with my mind, only to find it is already fading.”

“I am the child I once was, and the adult I am today. I am all of my good points, and each of my bad. I am brave but afraid, healed but damaged, strong but helpless. I am everything I have admitted and all that I have denied. The person that I am right now in this moment is the product of every- thing I have ever been; the truth, the lies and everything in between.”

“I love the dark hours of my being.My mind deepens into them.There I can find, as in old letters,the days of my life, already lived,and held like a legend, and understood.”

“I had stay alive, and if that meant pretending that I had knowledge of my ex-boyfriend’s whereabouts that would likely lead to his death, then so be it. This was the closest I had gotten to finding Alex, and I wasn’t going to let go of this last shred of immortal in my life. Because if I did, I would likely convince myself that it was too good to be true; that it had only been a dream gone awry; and that the last three months were just a figment of my imagination.”

“The things here are stronger--the things that differentiate us from one another are too powerful. The common interest is no longer decisive. It has broken up already and given place to the interest of the individual. Now and then something still will shine through from that other time when we all wore the same rig, but already it is dwindled and dim. These others here are still our comrades and yet our comrades no longer--that is what is so sad. All else went west in the war, but comradeship we did believe in; now only to find that what death could not do, life is achieving; it is driving us asunder.”

“My day had already had a good dose of bitterness, and I preferred to keep it from getting any sadder.”

“I, too, am going to go away soon,' she says, 'I am weary and weary of my weariness. Everything is beginning to be a little empty and full of leave-taking and melancholy and waiting.”