Annie on My Mind

“Don’t let ignorance win,” said Ms. Stevenson. “Let love.”

“I am the captain of my soul.”

gazing

burst out laughing.

houted, swiping at me with her sword.

stiff with embarrassment.

was more behind them

blame you for

till you hear from me.

The girl looked as if she could have been a young colonial woman, and her song seemed sad, at least the feeling behind it did; I didn’t pay much attention to the words.

Please. Don’t—don’t punish yourselves for people’s ignorant reactions to what we all are.”

Even when I was little, I’d often felt as if I didn’t quite fit in with most of the people around me; I’d felt isolated in some way that I never understood.

Mr. Kenyon said life just didn’t seem right without a cat or two around.

But after about two months of being terrified and miserable, I found out that if you keep away from everyone, they keep away from you.

I was halfway home before I realized I hadn’t done any thinking about my solar-house project at all.

What matters is the truth of loving, of two people finding each other

“There’s no need for us to pretend to be other people any more, ever again, is there, Liza?” Annie said softly.

My eyes stung suddenly, and Annie touched the bottom lids with her finger, asking, “Why tears?”

I kissed her finger. “Because I’m happy,” I said. “Because your saying that right now makes me happier than almost anything else could. No—there’s no need to pretend.”

“As long as we remember that,” Annie said, “I think we’ll be okay.”

oh, Liza, I don’t want to hide the—the best part of my life, of myself.”

Often we had to stop and just hold each other—too much beauty can be hard to bear.

The important part is the wonder of the closeness and the unbearable ultimate realization that we are two people, not one—and also the wonder of that: that even though we are two people, we can be almost like one, and at the same time delight in each other’s uniqueness.

… We can be almost like one …