Here's the thing about luck...you don't know if it's good or bad until you have some perspective.

He believed in dreams, in endings that people told you could never happen, in disappointments reversed and luck that lasted.

It wasn't right to have someone charge into you your world without even asking, acting as if you were nothing more than an egg to be flipped and flopped, sunny-side up or scrambled, depending on the whims on whoever ran your life..._

Mothers always find ways to fit in the work - but then when you're working, you feel that you should be spending time with your children and then when you're with your children, you're thinking about working.

I wrote to find beauty and purpose, to know that love is possible and lasting and real, to see day lilies and swimming pools, loyalty and devotion, even though my eyes were closed, and all that surrounded me was a darkened room. I wrote because that was who I was at the core, and if I was too damaged to walk around the block, I was lucky all the same. Once I got to my desk, once I started writing, I still believed anything was possible.

Pride is a funny thing; it can make what is truly worthless appear to be a treasure.

After a while, the characters I'm writing begin to feel real to me. That's when I know I'm heading in the right direction