By sharing an experience, or creating an experience that we all go through where the character survives - though not easily, I always say that it's victory at a price - does give people hope.

Her life was beginning to make sense again, although she couldn’t say she was enjoying it. But her mind was clear, and her heart was not constantly as heavy. Only when she thought about him. But she knew that in time, she’d survive it. She had done it before and would again. Eventually the heart repairs.

You don’t know how lucky you are, my dear. Don’t waste it with regrets of the places and people you have lost. You have a lifetime to fill, so many good times and good years and great people ahead of you. You must rush to meet it.

Sometimes, I think one should only live in the present. The past is only a heavy burden to carry with you. And yet... it's so hard to let them go... to forget... to move ahead.

Sing Me no songs tell me no tales cry me no tears, but remember me kindly.

My early reviews were so bad that I decided I didn't want to read them again.

What’s ready? Was Steinback ready? Hemingway? Shakespeare? Dickens? Jane Austen? They just did it, didn’t they?