Because words were hills and valleys you traveled, so lovely sometimes that they hurt your eyes.

I vow... "to not let the back & forth of forgiveness interrupt the steadiness of love.

So I forcibly shove aside my prickles of pissed-off, which is easier than it sounds when millions of little sequined caffeine dancers are doing their big Broadway number on your internal stage. (Page 173)

But my apology was a thousand apologies.

I grow green beans in my garden. The one thing I know about harvesting them is that you need to train your eyes to see the beans. At first it all looks like leaves, until you see one bean and then another and another. If you want clarity, too, you have to look hard. You have to look under things and look from different angles. You'll see what you need to when you do that. A hundred beans, suddenly.

It's shocking the things we call love.

Look right at it. Know you can." Dad said. "Look right at that fear. Fear is the biggest bullshitter.