The belief that life was hard and often its worst battles were fought in private, that it was possible to walk through fear and come out scorched but still breathing.

If writers possess a common temperament, it's that they tend to be shy egomaniacs; publicity is the spotlight they suffer for the recognition they crave.

The real hell of this," he told her, "is that you're going to get through it.

The belief that life was hard and often its worst battles were fought in private, that it was possible to walk through fear and come out scorched but still breathing.

That she was irreplaceable became a bittersweet loyalty: Her death was what I had now instead of her.

What they never tell you about grief is that missing someone is the simple part.

Hope in the beginning feels like such a violation of the loss, and yet without it we couldn't survive.