To be truly popular, it has to look like something you are, when in reality, it's what you make yourself.

Things don't always look as they seem.

But I didn't frame it; I put into an envelope and sealed it and stuffed it far back into a corner drawer of a filing cabinet. It's there, just in case one of these days I start to lose her. There might be a morning when I wake up and her face isn't the first thing I see. Or a lazy August afternoon when I can't quite recall anymore where the freckles were on her right shoulders. Maybe one of these days, I will not be able to listen to the sound of snow falling and hear her footsteps.

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

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

You get through it, you just never get over it

I think once you sign on to be a mother, that's the only shift they offer.