The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of… — Emily Dickinson Copy Share Image
“The trinket reminded her of him and made it feel as if he were always near. She rubbed her fingers over the… — Vivienne Savage Copy Share Image
“trinket. A souvenir. It’s nothing.” “Oh, not nothing,” Macey said. She held her thin wrist out so that her bracelet caught the… — Ally Carter Copy Share Image
“A store-bought trinket with no history, no story. I knew, deep down, when he gave it to me that he didn't understand… — Christina Baker Kline Copy Share Image
She reaches in, digs her hand deep into the ball, and pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a… — Suzanne Collins Copy Share Image
