In the end you can't always choose what to keep. You can only choose how you let it go.

Writing, painting, singing -- it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death's footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without as much fear. For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey there between footsteps makes up our lives.

I think of how perhaps the best way to fly would be with hands full of earth, so you always remember where you came from.

Love changes what is probable and makes unlikely things possible

I want to reach out and grab his hand and hold it to me, right over my heart, right where it aches the most. I don't know if doing that would heal me or make my heart break entirely, but either way this constant hungry waiting would be over.

I realize now how much courage it takes to choose the life you want, whatever that might be.

Caring about anyone leaves you vulnerable.