Don’t see the notes. See the music. See the story it is telling you. Allow the music to change you. Allow it to give you the courage to do whatever you need to

Mama?" "Yes, Emmy." She traced a rivulet of rain with her finger as it made its journey down the glass. "How do you know when it's been long enough?" Emmy could sense her mother smiling into the phone. "When you relaize that love doesn't have a time span. Only pain does. I think sometimes it's hard to distinguish between the two, so we just hold on to both of them like they're inseparable.

Great tragedy gives us opportunities for great kindness.

You ain’t dead yet, so you ain’t done.

But there is room now in my heart for more memories, carved by a letting go that I could find only by coming home to a place I'd never been.

Every woman needs a daughter to tell her stories to.

But I think sometimes a person has to be forced underwater to see if they're going to drown or swim.