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

eskimos maybe? believed stars were holes in the sky where people who died could peek through at you

What could it be like to find out, in a matter of minutes, that the person you believed the sun rose and set on was not the person you'd thought?

If you want to see God laugh, make a plan.

There's that unwritten schism that literary writers get all the awards and commericals writers get all the success.

Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.

That's what love is. It's some power greater than you and me, that draws us to one special person