The last day is way shorter than counting to ten.

A Rule: Life without Islam is a naked tree,
Birds without trees can never feel free.

Those who don't jump will never fly.

まるで刻々と姿を変える夕方の空のように、いろいろな種類の別れに満ちたこの世の中を、ひとつも忘れたくないと思った。

Which was just well: goodbyes had never been my strong suit anyway, and lately my life had felt like an unbroken series of them. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.

Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos.