In The End, It Is My Belief,

Sylvie's Knowledge, Like Izzie's, Was Random Yet Far-ranging, 'the Sign That One Has Acquired One's Learning From Reading Novels Rather Than An Education.

They Said Love Made You Strong, But In Louise's Opinion It Made You Weak. It Corkscrewed Into Your Heart And You Couldn't Get It Out Again, Not Without Ripping Your Heart To Pieces.

Sometimes It Was Harder To Change The Past Than It Was The Future.

Life Wasn't About Becoming, Was It? It Was About Being.

I Spent Four Years Doing A Doctorate In Postmodern American Literature. I Can Recognize It When I See It.