I grew up aware of all the people I depended on and who depended on me.
A certain feeling comes from throwing your good life away, and it is one part rapture.
Downstream is always someone else's up.
The loudest sound on earth, she thought, is a man with nothing to do.
How pointless life could be, what a foolish business of inventing things to love, just so you could dread losing them.
You don't think you'll live past it and you don't really. The person you were is gone. But the half of you that's still alive wakes up one day and takes over again.