Paper and ink are all but trash, if I cannot find the thought which the writer did think.

The pages afforded glimpses into my soul where I'd hidden it, behind masks of paper and ink.

I thought Darren had suffered a bad knee injury but I am led to believe that he is back in training now and he could actually come to Japan with us.

And then another letter had come from Christopher, so devastating that Amelia wondered how mere scratches of ink on paper could rip someone's soul to shreds. She had wondered how she could feel so much pain and still survive.

We're never so vulnerable than when we trust someone - but paradoxically, if we cannot trust, neither can we find love or joy.

Don't think it, ink it.