Sometimes The Right Thing Feels

I Was Beginning To Understand.my Grandmother's Love Was Cold Because She Was Afraid Of Things;that Was Why Everything Had To Be Perfect.

She Was Disappearing A Little More Each Day, So Thin, So Frail, A Wisp Of Smoke. One Day She Would Surely Vanish Altogether, And There Was No Way To Stop Her.

You Can Be Betrayed In Your Sleep. The Whole World Can Tilt While You're Dreaming Of Butterflies.

I Hate It When People Tell Me The End Of The Story Because My Mother Always Read The Last Page Of A Novel First To See Whether She Wanted To Read It. It Was A Strange Reading Habit.

You Are Only Worthy Of What You Prove Yourself To Be.