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.

In losing a friend, she is reminded of all she has lost and all she stands to lose again. There is nothing to be done to make it any easier. We all grieve alone.

When all is said and done, the weather and love are the two elements about which one can never be sure.

No barrier was strong enough to keep out the movement of time.

They weren't true stories; they were better than that.

I wasn't quite as certain that I knew her soul. When it came right down to it, I wasn't sure she knew me either.

Crying wasn't like riding a bike. Give it up, and you quickly forget how it's done.