There were some people who hit your life so hard, they left a stain on your future.

Then Henry speaks again. "Did he do it?" I turn to him slowly. "Does it matter?

I imagine the touch of someone who loves you so much, he cannot bear to watch you sleep; and so you wake up with his hand on your heart.

History could hover, like a faint perfume or a memory stamped on the back of one's eyelids.

I wondered about the explorers who'd sailed their ships to the end of the world. How terrified they must have been when they risked falling over the edge; how amazed to discover, instead, places they had seen only in their dreams.

A sacrament--like marriage--means living a life better than your natural instincts, so that you're modeling God. And God never gives up.

This must be what an addict feels like, I think, trying to fight the pull of one last, quick read. My fingers itch toward the binding, and finally, with a sigh of regret, I just grab the book and open it, hungrily reading the story.