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Are the stories we tell ourselves true or based on what we dream them to be?
“Stop thinking that you have to know everything to understand it.”
She looked at Naomi with pride. “You’re a good egg.
“‘The law ain’t always kind.’”
“Holy bejesus in a bonnet,
I always joked she would end up being one of those people who spent all their time outside, if she wasn’t buried in a book.
“Are you trying to talk your way into my bed?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion. “No.” His voice sounded warm. “I’m trying to talk my way into your heart.”
This is something I know: no matter how far you have run, no matter how long you have been lost, it is never too late to be found.
