In truth we were quickly reaching--had likely enough already reached--the age where it no longer made sense to talk about "promise." It was around this time that I remarked to Max that no matter what we now achieved no one would say, "He's so young." Precocity had passed us by.
"After twenty-eight," I sad sadly, "you're judged on your merits."
"Unless one of us dies," Max corrected me. "Then they'll all say, 'He was so young.
There was something beautiful and timeless to her about a hardback without its jacket, a book that could be known in no way except by reading it.
Christopher R. BehaMots clés books
Perhaps the body was not a cage that held the soul, but a hand that gripped it like a cane, appearing to guide it, to command it, but all the while dependent upon it, gripping it all the tighter the more that it needed it, finally letting it go.
Christopher R. BehaMots clés human-soul
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