The Book of Lost and Found

by Lucy Foley

So this is it, Tom thinks to himself. This is what it is to be young: this is what people mean when they talk about the freedom and folly of youth, the reckless glamour of it. It is the purest sort of intoxication, this flying over rough ground so that the breath is knocked out of you, whizzing through the world with such power and grace and danger.

He is going to show his work to another person, and it will mean the exposure of his innermost self.

As for the rest, well, it is one of those recollections that I only rarely allow myself. I have a theory, you see, that the most precious memories can be damaged with too much handling, as with all delicate objects.

think we carry all of our past selves with us, in tight layers. Somewhere within you is that girl, however many other, new selves you may have grown in the years since. She’s what holds you together, at the very center.”