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Laura wondered to what extent she had engineered her own failures. Had she become an habitual coward, afraid to climb in case she fell?
“You don’t know you can’t until you try.”
“In this world, Daisy, we are tiny. We can’t always win and we can’t always be happy. But the one thing that we can always do is try.
“If you never get sadness, how do you know what happy is like?”
He was her North, her South, her East, her West, Her working week and Sunday vest, She was his moon and stars and favorite song, They thought that love would last forever: they weren’t wrong.
Things always look better in the morning. It wasn’t the sunlight that poked fun at Laura’s imperfections, but the darkness with its looming doubts that mocked her in the sleepless spells that broke the night.
