Don't look behind you. Look what's in front of you.

It doesn&#39;t matter if you look different. You&#39;re still the same as everybody else because you have the same dream.

What struck Celia most about young children was the intensity of their passions, life too new to be modulated, perspective a possession not yet acquired.

At the tips of the feathers there is air and at their base: blood. I hold up bones; I wish like broken glass they could court light....still I try to place these pieces back together, to set them firm, to make murdered girls live again.

Written By Alice Sebold

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