“Bottom half of the seventh, Brock's boy had made it through another inning unscratched, one! two! three! Twenty-one down and just six outs to go! and Henry's heart was racing, he was sweating with relief and tension all at once, unable to sit, unable to think, in there, with them! Oh yes, boys, it was on! ”

“Ten little Indian boys went out to dine; One choked his little self and then there were nine.Nine little Indian boys sat up very late; One overslept himself and then there were eight.Eight little Indian boys travelling in Devon; One said he'd stay there and then there were seven.Seven little Indian boys chopping up sticks; One chopped himself in halves and then there were six. Six little Indian boys playing with a hive; A bumblebee stung one and then there were five.Five little Indian boys going in for law; One got in Chancery and then there were four.Four little Indian boys going out to sea; A red herring swallowed one and then there were three. Three little Indian boys walking in the Zoo; A big bear hugged one and then there were two.Two little Indian boys sitting in the sun; One got frizzled up and then there was one.One little Indian boy left all alone; He went and hanged himself and then there were none.”

“There was a reason these boys were still alive, though. Something made them stronger than the other kids, the ones who had died in the early days, who had simply lain down and given up, unable to cope with the terrible things that were happening in the world. These boys were survivors. The will to live was stronger than any other feelings.”

“One and two and three and four and five and six…”Oh, God don’t let me hurt him.“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Am I really doing this? Here? Is this real?“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen…”We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one is going to find us. Even the fire has gone out.“…and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”He’s dead. I’m just beating on his body.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three and twenty-four…”My arms hurt. How can my arms hurt now? Blake. I can’t. I can’t be here without you.“…and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”The next step was simple: cover his mouth and fill his lungs with air. Breathe into him with life’s breath. Livia did so, licked her lips, and started compressions again.“And one and two and three and four and five and six and seven…”I’ve got to be positive. I have to know he’ll make it.“…and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and thirteen and fourteen…”We’re going to grow old together, Blake. We’re going to hold hands and kiss.“…and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”I’m giving you all my energy. All this love and hope. It’s going from my heart to yours, through my hands.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three…”Feel it, Blake. Feel it.“…and twenty-four and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven…”I love you so much. I’m going to love you forever. Can you feel that, Blake?“…and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”Livia leaned down, repositioned Blake’s head, and filled his lungs twice more. As she put her hands on his chest to keep her rhythm, she looked down at his face, at his skin.“And one and two and three and four and five and six…”Am I imagining that? Your skin?“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Blake! Blake, your skin! It’s just like glass, Blake. You’re really sparkling. I can see it. I can really see it. Your skin is amazing!Livia’s tears landed on her hard-pumping hands. Nothing would stop her from beating Blake’s heart for him now. Nothing. Not even the sound of people crashing through the woods.“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen…”You’re glistening, Blake. I’ll never stop. I’ll never stop.”

“They are closing the mine in two weeks, they say. Six days a week bumping down in the gondola, pecking out the rocks and hauling them back up, doing it again the next day for twenty-seven years, one cave-in, three thin raises, and a failed strike. Where am I going to go every day, what am I going to do with all that sunshine?”

“Once, on ancient Earth, there was a human boy walking along a beach. There had just been a storm, and starfish had been scattered along the sands. The boy knew the fish would die, so he began to fling the fish to the sea. But every time he threw a starfish, another would wash ashore. "An old Earth man happened along and saw what the child was doing. He called out, 'Boy, what are you doing?' " 'Saving the starfish!' replied the boy. " 'But your attempts are useless, child! Every time you save one, another one returns, often the same one! You can't save them all, so why bother trying? Why does it matter, anyway?' called the old man. "The boy thought about this for a while, a starfish in his hand; he answered, "Well, it matters to this one." And then he flung the starfish into the welcoming sea.”