There is no choice for him but to believe. He has nothing left to give in offering.

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

There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.

My sisters were in that van.

We writers are resilient souls.

I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.

She would do anything, anything to belong to his son after a lifetime of belonging to no one at all.