I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.

memory is both the curse of grief and the eventual talisman against it; what at first seems unbearable becomes the succor that can outlast pain.

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.

Grief doesn't necessarily make you noble. Sometimes it just makes you crazy, or primitive with fear.

Like a starfish, the heart endures its amputation.

the mother's first job is to raise a daughter strong enough to outlast her.

I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.