He’s so in love with all the things I hate most about myself I always wished I could be more like the girls on my shelf.
Girl in blue,There’s a pressure in you—Let it out.All the little things you’ve built up,All the big things you’ve been hiding—Let them free.
Though he rarely laughed, his eyes did often, so as I stood silent over his coffin, tears filled mine.
Here’s something nice I want to say: I’m blessed to watch you on your way On down this path to Glory, Humbly
“Grandma, would you please tell us a story?” Mazy looked up from playing nurse with her cloth doll from their perch on the third glossy pine step. Her deep green eyes glittered with delight like the Emerald City of Oz.
Hayden rolled his eyes towards the entrance of the classroom at the sound of a tinkling laugh. Everly Jones, the bane of Hayden’s existence. Normal people just aren’t that happy. Hayden was sure of it.
There’s nothing like these fog banks—how they stop time except for the few inches in front of your face, Willow thought as she walked toward the docks.
It is an undeniable truth that in the small hours of the morning, reality becomes distorted. Sometimes a fairly strong breeze sets in, strong enough to make the leaves on the trees shiver and rattle like the bones of long-forgotten creatures, ancient and mysterious.
It started as a strangely comfortable yet alarming pulsating throb in my spine. I was about ten years old at the time. I can remember having this feeling during PE class while sitting on the cold, dusty rubber floor
I’m convinced Julie Andrews would make the best Freshman Seminar peer leader. Why? Because of her song, “My Favorite Things.” Life in an abbey must have resembled college life a whole lot.