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.

The more she thought about it, the more Madeleine understood that extreme solitude didn't just describe the way she was feeling about Leonard. It explained how she'd always felt when she was in love. It explained what love was like and, just maybe, what was wrong with it.

In the end, it wasn't death that surprised her but the stubbornness of life.

I spend most of every day writing. I like to write every day if I can. I don't start extremely early.

She was a large, disordered woman, like a child's drawing that didn't stay within the lines.

The seeds of death get lost in the mess that God made us.

She may have looked normal on the outside, but once you'd seen her handwriting you knew she was deliciously complicated inside.