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Thank you mellyjelly/drumthings for this fantabulous skin=D

I learned a lot that night. For example, that part of being the magician's assistant means coming face-to-face with illusion. That invisibility is really just knotting your body in a certain way and letting the black curtain fall over you. That people don't vanish into thin air; that when you can't find someone, it's because you've been misdirected to look elsewhere.

I think it is a matter of love: the more you love a memory, the stronger and stranger it is. (Vladimer Nabokov)

But a witness is defined through what he sees, not what he says, And just because you keep something a secret doesn't mean it never happened, no matter how much you want that to be true.

You can boil your life down to a single suitcase, if you desperately have to. Ask yourself what you really need and it won't be what you imagine - you will easily toss aside unfinished work, and bills, and your daily calendar to make room for the pair of flannel pajamas you wear when it rains, and the stone your child gave you that is shaped like a heart, and the battered paperback you revisit every April, because it was what you were reading the first time you fell in love. It turns out that what's important is not everything that you've accumulated all these years, but those few things you can carry with you.

Sometimes, when you don't ask questions, it's not because you are afraid that someone will lie to your face. It's because you're afraid they'll tell you the truth.

You think you know the world you are living in. If you can feel it, and touch it, and smell it, and taste it, then it must be so. You tell yourself that you would bet your life on the simple fact that the sky is blue. And then one day someone comes along and informs you empathetically that you're wrong. Blue, you insist. Blue as the ocean. Blue as a whale. Blue as my daughter's eyes. But that person shakes his head, and everyone else backs him up. You poor girl, they say. All of those things - the ocean, the whale, her eyes - they're green. You've gotten them mixed up. You've had it wrong all along.

Vanishing Acts by Jodi Picoult