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Books, she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives—or to find strength in a very long one.
It would be an unconventional life, and perhaps a little lonely, but at least it would be hers. She would belong to no one but herself.
“I do not want to belong to anyone but myself. I want to be free. Free to live, and to find my own way, to love, or to be alone, but at least it is my choice, and I am so tired of not having choices, so scared of the years rushing past beneath my feet. I do not want to die as I’ve lived, which is no life at all.
and one way or another, from this moment forward, her life will be her own.
