and she had succeeded, on the second try, in hurling herself out of the world

Novelists are always resisting autobiographical readings of their work, because they know how false those can be.

It was something every child knew how to do, maintain a direct and full connection with the world. Somehow you forgot about it as you grew up, and had to learn it again.

There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you.

Grief is natural,' she said. 'Overcoming it is a matter of choice.

She lost much of her appetite. At night, an invisible hand kept shaking her awake every few hours. Grief was physiological, a disturbance of the blood. Sometimes a whole minute would pass in nameless dread - the bedside clock ticking, the blue moonlight coating the window like glue - before she`d remember the brutal fact that had caused it.

We listened to them, but it was clear they'd received too much therapy to know the truth.