“We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. In any event, I would not have let her escape me so easily. ” “I am very glad,” he answered, in a low tone. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle.
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