That was the way love was, invisible, there whether or not you wanted to see it or admit to it.

Even as a small child, I understood that woman had secrets, and that some of these were only to be told to daughters. In this way we were bound together for eternity.

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.

Unfinished business always comes back to haunt you, and a man who swears he'll love you forever isn't finished with you until he's done.

Perhaps it is possible to discover more in silence than in speech. Or perhaps it is only that those who are silent among us learn to listen.

It was a great escape for me and it was a way to take a break from what was going on in my own world, to go into another world.

Are people drawn to each other because of the stories they carry inside?