If you can’t understand it without an explanation, you can’t understand it with an explanation.

Those were strange days, now that I look back at them. In the midst of life, everything revolved around death.

No matter what the situation may be, I still take pleasure in witnessing the joy of others.

Good style happens in one of two ways: the writer either has an inborn talent or is willing to work herself to death to get it.

sometimes i'd wake up at two or three in the morning and not be able to fall asleep again. i'd get out of bed, go to the kitchen, and pour myself a whiskey. glass in hand, i'd look down at the darkened cemetary across teh way and the headlights of the cars on the road. the moments of time linking night and dawn were long and dark. if i could cry, it might make things easier. but what would i cry over? i was too self centered to cry for other people, too old to cry for myself.

The strength I'm looking for isn't the type where you win or lose. I'm not after a wall that'll repel power coming from outside. What I want us the kind of strength to be able to absorb that kind of power, to stand up to it.The strength to quietly endure things - unfairness, misfortunes, sadness, mistakes, misunderstandings.

What was lost was lost. There was no retrieving it, however you schemed, no returning to how things were, no going back.