“...but for the Girl Writing A Letter these things don't matter, she's got a beer in her free hand, she's on the road, she's real and she's in love.”
“Today, I'm the real me." She lifts her chin toward the large white beer tent. "How about a couple of beers?""Do you have an ID?"She laughs and pulls me toward the tent. "Honey, I've got a pocket full of them.”
“It didn’t matter, anyway. There was only one thing she could ask for, in the end, only one real choice. She raised her eyes to the Angel’s. "Jace," she said.”
“A girl never forgets two things: the day she started her period for the first time, and the day she met the love of her life.”
“It matters not, for she did not need her eyes to tell her who she was. She knew it by your love for her.”
“But she wasn't a little girl, she was a beautiful woman, tall and lovely, with tresses of black hair that curved like cupped hands around her face.”