Something good was happening. My life was rising from the ashes, and the sight of it left me feeling something like hopeful.
It's more important to be interesting, to be vivid, and to be adventurous than to sit pretty for pictures.
Our lives disappear, even as we live them.
Maybe the past is supposed to fade-and that's actually a kindness of human memory.
It's always better to have what you have than to get what you wanted.
And despite everything I know now, I still believe, as I did when I was little, that there is an entire universe of things that my mother knows that I don't. I still believe that nothing truly bad can ever happen if my mother is around. I know it's not true. But still. It is true.