He was not a likeable figure but then when you are a part of a family, you cannot wish to see someone wither away even when you dislike him. He is a part of your blood, he and all his idiosyncrasies. There is always a tinge of warmth in the corner of your heart, reminiscent of the good times spent together. Then there are always those moments, when you wonder why everything turned out so different. When you wonder what possibly could hold people together, if not the fact that they come from the same blood? Or are we just not born to be that way? Craving to be something that we cannot be, each with our own false ceilings to hide our true selves? . Anonymous
Do you think we can be friends?” I asked. He stared up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but we can pretend.
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Priya Ardis
When I walk, I walk with you. Where I go, you're with me always.
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Alice Hoffman
...he had a way of taking your hand which made it clear he'd have to be the one to let go." From Alice Hoffman's "Local Girls", pg.102.
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Alice Hoffman
Vane grabbed me. “DuLac, let’s chat.” British-speak for “Stand still while I yell at you.
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Priya Ardis
So I learned two things that night, and the next day, from him: the perfection of a moment, and the fleeting nature of it.
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Margaret George
