Back then I was still appalled that God would set down his barefoot boy and girl dollies into an Eden where, presumably, He had just turned loose elephantiasis and microes that eat the human cornea. Now I understand, God is not just rooting fo the dollies.

The friend who holds your hand and says the wrong thing is made of dearer stuff than the one who stays away.

I don't look like who I am.

She is inhumanly alone. And then, all at once, she isn't.

Hallie and I... were all there was. The image in the mirror that proves you are still here. We had exactly one sister apiece. We grew up knowing the simple arithmetic of scarcity: A sister is more precious than an eye.

I know I have to write about the things that keep me awake at night.

If you want sweet dreams, you've got to live a sweet life.