I wept to think that life went on even when so much had been lost, that rain still fell and myrtle grew between the rocks.

Hearts were made for being broken. There's really no way around it if you want to be a human being.

I never plot out my novels in terms of the tone of the book. Hopefully, once a story is begun it reveals itself

We stood and watched as God abandoned us, and then we did the best we could.

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.

I thought that love was a river, endless and deep. I thought it merely happened, washing over you like water. It was nothing to search for, nothing to force. I didn't understand that even when we can't control our fate, we alone have the last say in matters of the heart. We can give it freely, even in the worst of times, even when it isn't returned.

A red map isn't easy to follow. Any document made of blood and bones is tricky. Wrong turns are easily made, and there are often piles of stones in the road. A person has to disregard time and sorrow and all the damage done. If you follow, if you dare, the thread always leads to whomever or whatever you've forgotten.