Here's my question: What age are you when you're in Heaven?

I have only known her for two years. But if you took every memory, every moment, if you stretched them end to end-they'd reach forever.

...when people we love make choices, we don't always understand them. But we can go on loving them, just the same. It isn't a matter of comprehension. It's forgiveness.

You okay in there?" "No, I'm hanging from a closet rod.

let me tell you what happens when you cook down the syrup of loss over the open fire of sorrow: it solidfies into something wlaw. not grief, like you'd expect, or even regret. no, it gets thick as paste, black as ash; yet it isn't until you dip a finger in and feel that sharp taste dissolving on your tounge that you realize this is angel in its purest form, unrefined; a substance to be weighed and measyred and spread.

Your problem is that you have been too honest for too long. Once you start doing it, lying is simpler than breathing.

There is a gulf as wide as an ocean between should and want, and I am drowning in it.