But that's what love is, isn't it? When it hurts you more to see someone suffer than it does to take the pain away?

I have never understood why it is called losing a child. No parent is that careless. We all know exactly where our sons and daughters are; we just don't necessarily want them to be there

That's the paradox of loss: How can something that's gone weigh us down so much?

She's not like anyone I've ever seen before. When I'm not with her, I want to be. And when she opens the book and I see her face, I can barely remember what I'm supposed to say, much less how to speak at all." I test the words on my tongue. "I think I might be in love with her. But how can I really know, since the only love I've ever experienced was written for me?

If it is possible to die of grief then why on earth can't someone be healed by happiness?

There are two reasons not to tell the truth--becuase lying will get you what you want, and because lying will keep someone from getting hurt.

There were lies we told to save ourselves, and then there were lies we told to rescue others. What counted more, the mistruth, or the greater good?