I didn’t realize that one tragedy can beget another, and another — bright-eyed disasters flooding out of a death hole like bats out of a cave.

You small mortals don't realize the power of your stories.

"I'm not going anywhere," she told me that night. But until we are old ladies-a cypress age, a Sawtooth age-I will continue to link arms with her, in public, in private, in a panic of love.

Once you figure out what's best for the story, take out the rest.

I would love to travel around the world working for a travel company taking students abroad on cultural immersion trips.

But if you kept thinking about a fight you’d lost, Mom said, you were programming yourself to lose again.

If you're short on time, that would be the two-word version of our story: we fell.