When I was little, the great mystery to me was not how babies were made, but why?

Envy, after all, comes from wanting something that isn't yours. But grief comes from losing something you've already had.

You get through it, you just never get over it

My friends say I have two speeds: fast and blistering.

They say that there are moments that open up your life like a walnut cracked, that change your point of view so that you never look at things the same way again.

and he suddenly knew that if she killed herself, he would die. Maybe not immediately, maybe not with the same blinding rush of pain, but it would happen. You couldn't live for very long without a heart.

There was, really, nothing you could use as a blueprint for your life, except your past. There was no starting over. There was only picking up the pieces someone had left behind.