Still, I couldn't help but wonder if it was a mistake for people like us to be tied to a place. If we weren't meant to be ready and willing to wander. If everything we needed was contained in who we were. And what we remember.

That was the way illness appeared in a house, in the corners, in between floorboards, on the hooks in the closet, along with the sweaters and coats.

Another world must surely exist somewhere one where she would be known in some deep way that was far beyond words.

Trouble is just like love, after all; it comes in unannounced and takes over before you've had a chance to reconsider, or even to think.

My grief was cold. It was nothing to share. It was nothing to speak about, nothing to feel.

No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way.

My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage." - Aunt Frances