Everyone struggles against despair, but it always wins in the end. It has to. It's the thing that lets us say goodbye.

Added to their loveliness was a new mysterious suffering, perfectly silent, visible in the blue puffiness beneath their eyes or the way they would sometimes stop in mid-stride, look down, and shake their heads as though disagreeing with life.

If you talk to geneticists they are constantly finding that your genes are being switched on and off because of the environment. Genes alone do not determine an exact path in your life.

If love were endless, if it were on tap, it wouldn't hit us the way it does. And we certainly wouldn't write about it.

I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sku was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you.

All wisdom ends in paradox.

Biology gives you a brain. Life turns it into a mind.