Jill and I have known each other our whole lives. One house separates our houses but we act as if it doesn't exist. We met before we were born and we'll probably still know each other after we die. At least, that's the way we're planning it.

Even in times when it's difficult to figure out, how do you go forward, art - and books - always help

Jill and I have known each other our whole lives. One house separates our houses but we act as if it doesn't exist. We met before we were born and we'll probably still know each other after we die. At least, that's the way we're planning it.

She was disappearing a little more each day, so thin, so frail, a wisp of smoke. One day she would surely vanish altogether, and there was no way to stop her.

Margaret thought of all she knew for certain, that day would always follow night that love was never wasted nor was it lost.

I feel like my eyes are killing me at the end of the day and that I shouldn't use them.

I just finished Colson Whitehead's "The Underground Railroad," which I think is a work of genius.