“If you take a book with you on a journey,…an odd thing happens: The book begins collecting your memories. And forever after you have only to open that book to be back where you first read it. It will all come into your mind with the very first words: the sights you saw in that place, what it smelled like, the ice cream you ate while you were reading it…yes, books are like flypaper—memories cling to the printed page better than anything else.”—Cornelia Funke (Inkheart)
After everyone has gone to sleep in my house, and all I can hear are the small whispers and creaks from the settling earth around my walls, I snuggle into my blankets and say, “I love you.” I don’t know why. I don’t even know to who. But I know somewhere, somehow … someone is doing the same thing. And maybe … just maybe, we will be able to say that to each other instead of to the murky night.
“I think the idea is that every person has to live for his or her own life and then make the choice to share it with other people. Maybe that is what makes people “participate.”—Stephen Chbosky (The Perks of Being a Wallflower)