A drop of poison on that gathering snow. That moment in the fairy tale when we know what just happened but the princess doesn’t.

I mean it’s purposeful, even if we don’t realize it. The desire to put things in our path, to figure out how to finally leave the behind….

Control was just wishful thinking, and you controlled things to hedge your bets, to be safe, to guard against loss.

I guess forgiveness, like happiness, isn’t a final destination. You don’t one day get there and get to stay.

Marriage is like a well-built porch. If one of the two posts leans too much, the porch collapses. So each must be strong enough to stand on its own.

There are so many different fifteens. And eighteens. And forty-twos, for that matter. Mature fifteens and young fifteens and wise fifteens and lost fifteens. And angry fifteens.

Love can come when you're already who you are, when you're filled with you. Not when you look to someone else to fill the empty space.