why won't they leave me alone? don't they realize I have a tinder heart and a paper body and that any spark will turn me straight to ash?

It's one of the secrets of strength: We're so much more likely to find it in the service of others than in service to ourselves.

It is its own form of conversation -- you can learn a lot about people from the stories they tell, but you can also know them from the way they sing along, whether they like the windows up or down, if they live by the map or by the world, if they feel the pull of the ocean.

You went and broke our lives. You are so much worse than a cheater. You killed something. And you killed it when its back was turned.

Trying to write about love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary represent life. No matter how many words there are, there will never be enough.

you ask me what I'm looking for, and I outline you. you don't recognize the shape, offer other names. you say my time will come, and I hope.

She is so lost in her sadness that she has no idea how visible it is.