It's exactly at these moments, when all hope has vanished, that prayer has dominion.

This is what I know: people's hopes go on forever.

Here at last is her smile: burn it into your memory; you won't see it often.

You eventually erase her contact info from your phone but not the pictures you took of her in bed while she was naked and asleep, never those.

Nobody warned me that when you fall in love, you really fall in love forever.

Love is the only thing - I don't want to say that "makes it bearable" - but I feel like without the possibility of love, this place would just devour us.

I think that most of us are aware that as writers we are seeking absences, we're seeking silences, we're seeking spaces that people haven't entered. No writer is saying, "Hey, I want to go to this very well trod territory and say exactly what someone else has done." I think the nature of a writer, because we are attempting to bring to light areas that people haven't seen before, tends in some ways to be progressive, at least in that light.