She loved me coming and going, at my worst and at my best. She had a bottomless well of love for me.

If you want to be a good writer, make sure you read. I'm amazed by how many people don't bother to do that.

Tension of opposites.

Instead, he would make death his final project, the center point of his days. Since everyone was going to die, he could be of great value, right? He could be research. A human textbook. Study me in my slow and patient demise. Watch what happens to me. Learn with me.

I made such a fool of myself,” she lamented. “Love does not make you a fool.” “He didn’t love me back.” “That does not make you a fool, either.” “Just tell me …” Her voice cracked. “When does it stop hurting?” “Sometimes never.

Had he known his death was imminent, he might have gone somewhere else. Instead, he did what we all do. He went about his dull routine as if all the days in the world were still to come. ~pg 4

If you could pack for heaven, this was how you'd do it, touching everything, taking nothing.