In Reality.

The earth reflects the sky and the sky meets the earth and, every now and then, if we’re lucky, we have a moment to see how small we are.

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Three.

I remember what Anna called the three of us.
The Pilot. The Poet. The Physic.
They are in all of us. I believe this. That every person might have a way to fly, a line of poetry to put down for others to see, a hand to heal.

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Hopeless.

If you let hope inside, it takes you over. It feeds on your insides and uses your bones to climb and grow. Eventually it becomes the thing that is your bones, that holds you together. Holds you up until you don’t know how to live without it anymore. To pull it out of you would kill you entirely.

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Red.

It feels as though I’m running with her – I see moments from her life. Water filling a boat in Sonoma as the officials sink it before her.  Her triumphant run down the river to the Rising that didn’t save her.  Our kiss.  A flight, a landing, a run, step after step after step, running when anyone else would go still – then nothing but black.  Or maybe it was red.

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Stories.

In a story, you can turn to the front and begin again and everyone lives once more. That doesn’t work in real life.

 

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Cure.

“The Society is sick,” he tells us beginning his message again. “and we have the cure.”

-Reached by: Ally Condie

Open to Change.

This passage to Camas, I tell myself, is a risk I am willing to run. You cannot change your Journey if you are unwilling to move at all.

~Reached by: Ally Condie

Distance.

Some people think the stars must look closer from up here.  They don’t.  When you’re up here, you realize how distant they really are—how impossible to reach.

~Reached by: Ally Condie