What makes you walk past thirty-thousand people without a second glance, and then you look at the thirty-thousandth-and-first person and know you'll never take your eyes off her again?

Since it had gotten so quiet in the room that you could hear the sound of your own doubts.

She had never been a pretty crier. She sobbed the way she did everything else - with passion and excess.

The Lord turned water into wine. All I'm suggesting is a trip to the grocery store.

Talking out loud to fictional characters is just the tip of the iceberg.

When the news you don't want to hear is looming before you like Everest, two things can happen. Tragedy can run you through like a sword, or it can become your backbone. Either you fall apart and sob, or you say, 'Right. What's next?

when you [lose someone], it feels like the hole in your gum when a tooth falls out. You can chew, you can eat, you have plenty of other teeth, but your tongue keeps going back to that empty place, where all nerves are still a little raw