“My best day ever. Got up. Had breakfast. Came to school. Bored, as usual. Wishing I wasn't there, like usual. Kids ignoring me, suits me fine. Sitting with the other retards—we’re so special. Wasting my time. Yesterday was the same, and it's gone, anyway. Tomorrow may never come. There is only today. This is the best day and the worst day. Actually it's crap.”

“Hope is hugging me, holding me in its arms, wiping away my tears and telling me that today and tomorrow and two days from now I will be just fine and I'm so delirious I actually dare to believe it.”

“Tomorrow is no hazardous affair, a day like any other day: tomorrow is the result of many yesterdays and comes with a potent, cumulative effect. I am tomorrow what I chose to be yesterday and the day before. It is not possible that tomorrow I may negate and nullify everything that led me to this present moment.”

“Because every day in my journal I write down the best thing that's happened to me. And today it's you." When When Johanna said that, I felt light, warm in that spot just above my stomach where it usually feels clenched and tight.”

“Ah, Sofia, darlin'! On my best days, I believe in Him with all my heart." "And on your worst days?" she had asked that night."Even if it's only poetry, it's poetry to live by, Sofia--poetry to die for. . .”

“Yesterday was a memory. Tomorrow was a hope. Today was another day to live and do one's best to love”