Times like this, when she slips her hand into mine and holds on tight, and our husband becomes just a shadow in the doorway.

Maybe it is desperation. Maybe we can't let things fall apart without trying. We can't let go of the people we love.

Set fire to the broken pieces; start anew.

It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.

I like the idea of something greater than us. We destroy things with our curiosity. We shatter with our best intentions. We are no closer to perfection than we were one hundred years ago, or five hundred.

The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.

Momentum,' She repeats. 'You can't just stand there if you want something to fly. You have to run.