If writers possess a common temperament, it's that they tend to be shy egomaniacs; publicity is the spotlight they suffer for the recognition they crave.

Hope in the beginning feels like such a violation of the loss, and yet without it we couldn't survive.

The belief that life was hard and often its worst battles were fought in private, that it was possible to walk through fear and come out scorched but still breathing.

You can’t change the tale so that you turned left one day instead of right, or didn’t make the mistake that might have saved your life a day later. We don’t get those choices. The story is what got you here, and embracing its truth is what makes the outcome bearable.

The truth, or success, of any writer's story lies partly in its specificity and its emotional honesty.

Grief is what tells you who you are alone.

What they never tell you about grief is that missing someone is the simple part.