My youngest brother had a wonderful schtick from some time in high school, through to graduating medicine. He had a card in his wallet that read, ‘If I am found with amnesia, please give me the following books to read …’ And it listed half a dozen books where he longed to recapture that first glorious sense of needing to find out ‘what happens next’ … the feeling that keeps you up half the night. The feeling that comes before the plot’s been learned.

Sometimes you didn't really arrive at a conclusion about your life, you just discovered that you already had.

How we remember changes how we have lived. Time runs both ways. We make stories of our lives.

... everyone knew that all islands were worlds unto themselves, that to come to an island was to come to another world.

She had been a solitary child, and then solitary as a woman, drawn into an orbit of her own that took her away from others, even those who would be her friends.

I will not say I am sorry, but I can tell you that I grieve.

We must be what we are, or we become our enemies.