We parked in back and walked down the stairs with their polished brass railings, past the old-fashioned kitchen. We could see the chefs cooking. It smelled like stew, or meat loaf, the way time should smell, solid and nourishing.

To know I was beautiful in his eyes made me beautiful.

Panic was the worst thing. When you panicked, you couldn't see possibilities. Then came despair.

The story of her life. God gave you everything just to take it away. Just so you knew exactly what you were missing.

purification in fire. public cremation

Memory is the fourth dimension to any landscape.

Kindness was the last thing she needed. She had to stay in the icy place, the numb place, and their warmth threatened to melt her just when she needed the cold.