Some of the freckles I once loved are now closer to liver spots. But it’s still the eyes we look at, isn’t it? That’s where we found the other person, and find them still.

I was initially planning to write about grief in terms of Eurydice and the myth thereof. By that point the overall metaphor of height and depth and flat and falling and rising was coming into being in my mind.

The more you learn, the less you fear.

Do we tend to recall the most important parts of a novel or those that speak most directly to us, the truest lines or the flashiest ones?

Global warming is more of a blessing than a curse.

Life isn't just addition and subtraction. There's also the accumulation, the multiplication, of loss, of failure.

You can put it another way, of course; you always can.