She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.

Lately, the world felt fragile, like a blown egg, as if it might shatter beneath a careless touch.

I've been accused of trying too hard to rescue people

She had died at age twelve, and by now she was nothing but the memory of love-- nothing, now, but bones.

...bleak territory of the heart.

A fear Paul had transformed all these years, like a gifted alchemist, into anger and rebellion.

After Memory Keepers Daughter, it took me a few months to shut out the world. I really had to turn off the Internet and sort of cloister myself away from the world again and sink into that psychic space to write again.