She Can Feel His Blood,

Jill Told Me That When You're Really In Love, You Know Right Away. I'm Not Exactly Sure How This Happens. Is It Like A Flash Of Lightning? Like An Angel Tapping You On The Shoulder? Or Is It Similar To Choosing A Puppy? You Think You're Picking The Cutest One, But Really You Wind Up Going Home With The One Who Keeps Insisting On Climbing Into Your Lap.

You Can Never Tell About A Person By Guessing...that's Why Language Was Invented. Otherwise, We'd All Be Like Dogs, Sniffing Each Other To Find Out Where We Stood.

I Have Nothing From My Childhood. I Think You Carry Those Books With You. It's Like In [ray] Bradbury's "fahrenheit 451." Books Are Outlawed In This Future Society So People Become The Book They Love By Memorizing It.

She Didn't Like Being Twelve. It Felt Like Someplace Between Who She'd Been And Who She Was About To Be. It Felt Like No Place At All.

What Else Is There To Write About Than Love And Loss?