The falling apart of a man's life should make more noise. It should startle passesrby with its Sturm and Drang. It ought to sound like the Parthenon crashing down. Not this ordinary, everyday kind of quiet...He closed his eyes...And still it was quiet, this falling apart of his life, as silent as the last beat of an old man's heart. A quiet, echoing thud, and then...nothing.

We can't live other people's lives for them. Even if we love them.

When you get . . . to the end, you see that love and family are all there is. Nothing else matters.

I am such a Pacific Northwest girl.

It had been years since she question his fidelity, but he'd stepped on to the old fame track again, and that was where the road had taken them before. Infidelity could be forgiven, but forgetting it was impossible. Strangely, that wasn't what bothered her the most. What bothered her was that she didn't really care.

To those who are here, those who are gone, and those who are lost.

And no one drank just one shot of tequila.