# data[].attributes.body
"Sorrow. Anger. An expanse of emptiness that takes form as a separate entity living inside of you. It digs, takes root, and dwells there. And somehow, you know that even if it worms its way out, there will be no relief. If it leaves, there will be nothing left but charred remains, like the inside of a house torched by fire. What did I do wrong?"

Page 155

# data[].attributes.body
"Words are weapons. I'll be able to fight our American and British enemies with words, not only guns."

Page 3

# data[].attributes.body
"A man grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. "I knew your grandfather," he whispered quickly. He knew Bunu? The man nodded. "He would be very proud of you."

Page 240

# data[].attributes.body
"I left the balcony and shut myself in my closet. I no longer had my notebook to confess to. So instead, I wrote one of the entries from memory on the wall: 12 December, 1989 -- "Will you remember me? A boy with wings of hope strapped to his back that never had a chance to open, denied forever knowing what he could have become.

What we all could have become."

Page 180