The World Was Hers For The Reading.

She Was Made Up Of More, Too. She Was The Books She Read In The Library. She Was The Flower In The Brown Bowl. Part Of Her Life Was Made From The Tree Growing Rankly In The Yard. She Was The Bitter Quarrels She Had With Her Brother Whom She Loved Dearly. She Was Katie's Secret, Despairing Weeping. She Was The Shame Of Her Father Stumbling Home Drunk. She Was All Of These Things And Of Something More...it Was What God Or Whatever Is His Equivalent Puts Into Each Soul That Is Given Life - The One Different Thing Such As That Which Makes No Two Fingerprints On The Face Of The Earth Alike.

It Was A Good Thing That She Got Herself Into This Other School. It Showed Her That There Were Other Worlds Beside The World She Had Been Born Into And That These Other Worlds Were Not Unattainable.

She Had Become Accustomed To Being Lonely. She Was Used To Walking Alone And To Being Considered 'different.' She Did Not Suffer Too Much.

Look At Everything Always As Though You Were Seeing It Either For The First Or Last Time: Thus Is Your Time On Earth Filled With Glory.

A Lie Was Something You Told Because You Were Mean Or A Coward. A Story Was Something You Made Up Out Of Something That Might Have Happened. Only You Didn't Tell It Like It Was, You Told It Like You Thought It Should Have Been.