It's and old, old story: I had a friend and we shared everything, and then she died and so we shared that, too.

My idea of a productive day, as both a child and an adult, was reading for hours and staring out the window.

Like a starfish, the heart endures its amputation.

Scratch a fantasy and you'll find a nightmare.

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

I'd confused need with love and love with sacrifice.

Grief is what tells you who you are alone.