Like the teens I worked with, I understood the need for miracles--they kept reality from paralyzing you

The Inuit say that the stars are holes in heaven. And every time we see the people we loved shining through, we know they're happy.

The only person who suffers, when you squirrel alway all that hate, is you.

This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder

She's not classically beautiful, but somehow that only makes her more interesting.

I have a sister, so I know-that relationship, it's all about fairness: you want your sibling to have exactly what you have-the same amount of toys, the same number of meatballs on your spaghetti, the same share of love. But being a mother is completely different. You want your child to have more than you ever did. You want to build a fire underneath her and watch her soar. It's bigger than words.

What she hadn't realized was that sometimes when your vision was that sharp and true, it could cut you. That only if you'd felt such fullness could you really understand the ache of being empty.