My grandmother told me that her father used to ask her a riddle: What must you break apart in order to bring a family close together? Bread, of course.

The night is falling down around us. Meteors rain like fireworks, quick rips in the seam of the dark... Every second, another streak of silver glows: parentheses, exclamation points, commas - a whole grammar made of light, for words too hard to speak.

When the door opens, I realize that the only thing worse than waiting is the moment you realize a decision has been made.

I wanted him to feel what I felt when I was with him: that incredible combination of comfort, decadence, and wonder; the knowledge that, with just a single taste of him, I was addicted.

And sometimes, he was less lucid. He'd run around his cell like a caged animal; he'd rock back and forth; he'd swing from topic to topic as if it was the only way to cross the jungle of his thoughts.

You know someone's right for you when the things they don't have to say are even more important than the things they do.

As Lacy waited for her turn to speak on Peter's behalf, she thought back to the first time she realized she could hate her own child.