“A leaf, a star, a song, a laugh. Notice all the little things, because somebody is reaching out to you. Qualcuno ti ama. Somebody loves you.”

How many husbands were floating between life and death, clinging to their wives in this world? And how may millions and millions of people were there in the world like Charlie who wouldn’t let go of their loved ones when they’re gone?

There’s a reason for everything, you said, and though it’s a mystery to me now, I know it won’t always be so.

On the horizon, he saw the full moon. God dropped it there, he was sure, as a reminder of our small place in the world. A reminder that what is beautiful is fleeting.

That’s death and life, you see. We all shine on. You just have to release your hearts, alert your senses, and pay attention.

And I was even beginning to think home might be with you.

That is the inescapable math of tragedy and the multiplication of grief. Too many good people die a little when they lose someone they love.

There’s no such thing as a lost cause.

How many boys like him were out there in the ether, holding on to their big brothers and sisters who were still alive?

One death begets two or twenty or one hundred. It’s the same all over the world.

…like the 75 billion souls who lived before him, each and every one a treasure, he, too, will die.

In a critical sense, doing nothing can mean doing something. Inaction can be action and embracing this paradox can save your life.

Sometimes I wonder, do the trees get sad when they see leaves fell?

Autumn leaves don’t fall, they fly.

A man without principle is like a tree without leaves.

I love to go nature on walks and discover different plants, flowers and leaves, all beautiful and unique in their own way. It’s the small choices we make that have the greatest impact on the environment.

Judge a tree from its fruit, not from its leaves.

Everytime the leaves are changing it’s the loneliest time of the year.

What a simple thing death is, just as simple as the falling of an autumn leaf.

What a simple thing death is, just as simple as the falling of an autumn leaf.