She wasn't sure what she hoped her words would accomplish. She always fantasized that they would be little paper airplanes printed with love letters gliding across the world.

In a world filled with poets, it was always you. You are my pen, my paper, my written word.

Life is a series of tragedies wrapped tightly in beautiful ribbons of hope.

Each thought of you was like a carefully penned love letter etched perfectly into the realm of my heart. And in that sacred place, locked tightly away from the world, you would always remain flawlessly untouched.

The sun will dissipate any trace of her memory, so much so that you'll think you've been healed, but you'll think of her when it rains.

[She uses her iPod] all the time — before games, on the bus, in airplanes, ... I just love music. I love all music.