And then she moved from shock to grief the way she might enter another room.

The weight of his losses finally too much to bear. But not before he has known the unforgiving light of the equator, a love that exists only in his imagination, and the enduring struggle to capture in words the infinite possibilities of a life not lived.

Children don't heal as well.. they change.. they mutate with disaster and make accomodations.

I guess that's the point of drinking, to take all the feelings and thoughts and morals away until you are just a body doing what a body will do.

Sometimes, she thought, courage was simply a matter of putting one foot in front of another and not stopping.

I loved him," Muire said. "We were in love." As if that were enough.

Sometimes it seems to me that all of life is a struggle to contain the natural impulses of the body and spirit, and that what we call character represents only the degree to which we are successful in this endeavor.