That she was irreplaceable became a bittersweet loyalty: Her death was what I had now instead of her.

Near the end I asked him one night in the hospital corridor what he thought was happening, and he said, "Tell her everything you haven't said," and I smiled with relief. "There's nothing," I said. "I've already told her everything.

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

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.

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

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

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.