dovete lasciare un commento nel blog nell'intervento ke parla
del gruppo non nel guestbook!!
Comments (18)
Please wait...
Sorry, the comment you entered is too long. Please shorten it.
You didn't enter anything. Please try again.
Sorry, we can't add your comment right now. Please try again later.
To add a comment, you need permission from your parent. Ask for permission
Your parent has turned off comments.
Sorry, we can't delete your comment right now. Please try again later.
You've exceeded the maximum number of comments that can be left in one day. Please try again in 24 hours.
Your account has had the ability to leave comments disabled because our systems indicate that you may be spamming other users. If you believe that your account has been disabled in error please contact Windows Live support.
Complete the security check below to finish leaving your comment.
The characters you type in the security check must match the characters in the picture or audio.
To add a comment, sign in with your Windows Live ID (if you use Hotmail, Messenger, or Xbox LIVE, you have a Windows Live ID). Sign in
Quentin Fields was a basketball player. He was also a son. A brother. Somebody’s teammate. Somebody’s friend.
I never knew Quentin Fields and I guess now I never will. Did you ever wonder what it would be like if you weren’t you anymore? If you were suddenly gone how would your world react? Whatever you imagined was wrong. There’s nothing romantic about death. Grief is like the ocean: it’s deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night. Quiet. Persistent. Unfair. Diminished by time and faith and love.
I didn’t know Quentin Fields but I’m jealous of him because I see how his absence has affected the people that did know him so I know that he did matter to them. And I know he was loved.
People say Quentin Fields was a great basketball player. Graceful. Fluid. Inspiring. They say on a good night it almost seemed as though he could fly. And now he can.
Tools 
Help
