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.

There is no such thing as 'too late' in life.

Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.

No matter where you live, the biggest defect we human beings have is our shortsightedness. We don't see what we could be.

Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to.

You were one person, and you changed the world.

I think what you notice most when you haven’t been home in a while is how much the trees have grown around your memories.