Don't Believe Everything You Hear Today

She'd Thought Love Had Something To Do With Happiness, But It Turned Out They Were Not Even Vaguely Related. Love Was Closer To A Need, No Different From The Need To Eat, To Breathe.

She Breathed Deeply Of The Scent Of Decaying Fiction, Disintegrating History, And Forgotten Verse, And She Observed For The First Time That A Room Full Of Books Smelled Like Dessert: A Sweet Snack Made Of Figs, Vanilla, Glue, And Cleverness.

The Soul May Not Be Destroyed. The Soul Goes On Forever. Like The Number Pi, It Is Without Cessation Or Conclusion. Like Pi It Is A Constant. Pi Is An Irrational Number, Incapable Of Being Made Into A Fraction, Impossible To Divide From Itself. So, Too, The Soul Is An Irrational, Indivisible Equation That Perfectly Expresses One Thing: You.

Don't Believe Everything You Hear Today

You Loved Me As Hard As You Knew How. I'd Give Anything To Go Back And Love You Better.