There was a difference between people looking at you because they wanted to be like you, and people looking at you because your misfortune brought them one rung higher.

I've always sort of wondered: If everyone else's opinion is what matters, then do you ever really have one of your own?

I'm grateful for my children, who are slowly emerging to become their own wonderful, interesting, compassionate young adults - which makes me believe that along the way I must have done something right.

When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it's safe inside your mouth.

How do you walk into someone's life again after twenty-eight years? How do you pick up, when you were too young to know where you left off.

The bottom line is that we never fall for the people we're supposed to.

Sometimes there aren't words. The silence between us is flung wide as an ocean. But I manage to reach across it, to wrap my arms around him.