Sometimes -- she knows this from her own life -- to get to the other side, you must travel through grief. No detours are possible.

I guess there's a lot we hope for that never happens.

I saw something I hadn't realized before: words wasted energy. I would use my strength instead to nurture my belief that my life would unfurl uniquely.

I tried to hold on to this compassion, sensing its preciousness, but even as I reached to grasp it, it dissipated into wisps. No revelation can endure unless it is bolstered by a calm pure mind- and I'm afraid I didn't possess that.

Everytime i have turned the page he re-enters my life as awkward as postscript

Each day has a color, a smell.

I walk out of the room, lurching under the weight of the lesson I've learned less than one hour into wifehood: How quickly the sweetest love turns rancid when it isn't returned. When the one you love loves someone else.