This is when I realize that Anna has already left the table, and more importantly, that nobody noticed.

See, as much as you want to hold on to the bitter sore memory that someone has left this world, you are still in it

[There's a] point where you have to leave the dough alone. It's silly to anthropomorphize bread, but I love the fact that it needs to sit quietly, to retreat from touch and noise and drama, in order to evolve. I have to admit, I often feel that way myself.

I drew it over my skin like a violins bow, No one would ever hear the song of my shame.

I imagined what it would be like to hold a butterfly in your hands something bejeweled and treasured and to know that despite your devotion it was dying by degrees.

And I think, not for the first time, that what is immoral is not always wrong.

You signed no contract to become a parent, but the responsibilities were written in invisible ink. There was a point when you had to support your child, even if no one else would. It was your job to rebuild the bridge, even if your child was the one who burned it in the first place.