People often belittle the place where they were born.

Money is not a substitute for tenderness, and power is not a substitute for tenderness.

You're not listening with your eyes.

But fates are connected in ways we don’t understand.

You'll come to my grave? To tell me your problems?" My problems? "Yes.' And you'll give me answers? "I'll give you what I can. Don't I always?" I picture his grave, on the hill, overlooking the pond, some little nine foot piece of earth where they will place him, cover him with dirt, put a stone on top. Maybe in a few weeks? Maybe in a few days? I see myself sitting there alone, arms across my knees, staring into space. It won't be the same, I say, not being able to hear you talk. "Ah, talk . . . " He closes his eyes and smiles. "Tell you what. After I'm dead, you talk. And I'll listen.

God sings, we hum along, and there are many melodies, but it's all one song - one same, wonderful, human song.

She felt worthless and hollow. There was no hope of fixing this. And when hope is gone, time is punishment.