More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
About how important it was for one to choose the right friends, that it was one’s friends who were the truest reflection of the self.
dry. I look at the bracelet on my wrist and the tiny numbers that mark me as a patient and my name that marks me as a person and the blue veins beneath my skin saying I am alive.
Sometimes, my daughters would look down on me,
We raised them here hoping. Now it was out of our hands. They would do what they liked. Maybe it had always been out of our hands. Maybe anything we could have wanted to instill in them was, at best, a hope.
