When you push yourself beyond limits, you discover inner reserves, which you never thought existed earlier.

There is something that you can do, for a greater good, for a greater cause, one that is far bigger than just yourself. Find it, and then, do it.

So, Noah, Echo’s the coat girl.” I had a nickname? Noah chuckled. “Yeah.” “Echo, is your father aware of this relationship?” “Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know about it?” Her eyes laughed. “Yes.

Guilt nagged at me. She didn't technically ask me a question, so in theory, I didn't owe her a response, but the need to please her swept over me like a tidal wave. But why? She was another therapist in the revolving door. They all asked the same questions and promised help, but each of them left me in the same condition they found me--broken.

Some people flinch when you talk about art in the context of the needs of society thinking you are introducing something far too common for a discussion of art. Why should art have a purpose and a use? Art shouldn't be concerned with purpose and reason and need, they say. These are improper. But from the very beginning, it seems to me, stories have indeed been meant to be enjoyed, to appeal to that part of us which enjoys good form and good shape and good sound.

Alexander shifted in my arms. God, he was so small, and from the giddy looks on my father's and Ashley's faces, they already worshiped him. We all started off this way, small little bundles of joy. Me, Aires, Noah, Lila, Isaiah, and even Beth. At some point, someone held and loved us, but somewhere along the way, it all got screwed up.