“Dear God . . . Let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.
Let me be gay; let me be sad. Let me be cold; let me be warm.
Let me be hungry. . . have too much to eat. Let me be ragged or well dressed.
Let me be sincere–be deceitful. Let me be truthful; let me be a liar.
Let me be honorable and let me sin.
Only let me be something every blessed minute.
And when I sleep, let me dream all the time so that not one little piece of living is ever lost.”
-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
I have only one chapter left in this book and I want to cry. (Not that I haven’t already. . .)