The Message

"They're green now, buddy."
"Thanks."
Driving.

Weird-shit magnet.

"Just do me a favor and remember one thing," he says. "Have faith, Ed, alright?"
I search the coffee mug, but there's none in there.

The power and the glory.

Sometimes people are beautiful. Not in looks. Not in what they say. Just in what they are.

It takes a lot of love to hate you like this.

I won't be okay just for the sake of it. Not anymore.




I Am the Messenger. Never before have you seen such beauty. Beautiful. It's fantastic. It's for boys and girls and adults and the people like Ritchie and the people like Sophie and people like Milla or even Gavin or maybe Ed himself. What is your life? How is it? What are you DOING with it? Ed, I love your story. I need to hear about real people that actually exist being as beautiful as you and everyone you helped. I want an ace in the mail. I want to stop a rape. Or make a girl beautiful with just an empty box. Or cure someone's deepest sadness. I want life to count. To not see a dead man when you look in the mirror, you need to have lived in your life. Markus Zusak. You are the best author. I cannot honestly think of anyone else who's books have affected me this much. We all know what The Book Thief does to me. Rudy. Liesel. How many times did she have to say goodbye? Fighting Ruben Wolfe. Getting the Girl. Not even my type of book. Probably for boys. But guess what, they made me cry. All of them do. And what more could you ask for than a book that makes you weep, laugh, and see the world more clearly?

I Am the Messenger. Beauty. Beauty. Gritty. Hate.

But it's all so beautiful.