She Is Well Practiced In The Art

It's Not About Being Fearless, It's About Acting In Spite Of Fear

I Just Wanted To Thank You' He Says, His Voice Low. 'a Group Of Scientists Told You That My Genes Were Damaged, That There Was Something Wrong With Me - They Showed You The Test Results That Proved It. And Even I Started To Believe It.' He Touches My Face, His Thumb Skimming My Cheekbone, And His Eyes Are On Mine, Intense And Insistent. 'you Never Believed It,' He Says 'not For A Second. You Always Insisted I Was... I Don't Know, Whole.

One Choice One Choice, Decided Your Friends. One Choice, Defines Your Beliefs. One Choice, Determines Your Loyalties - Forever. Once Choice Can Transform You

That’s One Way Of Looking At It. I Prefer To Look At It Another Way—which Is That If They Are Persistent Enough, Even Tiny Drops Of Water, Over Time, Can Change The Rock Forever. And It Will Never Change Back.

I See A Few Hands Stretching Out To Me At The Edge Of The Net, So I Grabbed The First One I Could Reach And Pull Myself Across. I Roll Off, And Would Have Fallen Face-first Onto A Wood Floor If He Had Not Caught Me. "he" Is The Young Man Attached To The Hand I Grabbed. He Has A Spare Upper Lip And A Full Lower Lip. His Eyes Are So Deep-set That His Eyelashes Touch The Skin Under His Eyebrows, And They Are Dark Blue, A Dreaming, Sleeping, Waiting Color.