The truth is, there is no line. There's only your life, how you mess it up, and who is there to save you. Or who isn't.

Consider the word “time.” We use so many phrases with it. Pass time. Waste time. Kill time. Lose time. In good time. About time. Take your time. Save time. A long time. Right on time. Out of time. Mind the time. Be on time. Spare time. Keep time. Stall for time. There are as many expressions with “time” as there are minutes in a day. But once, there was no word for it at all. Because no one was counting. Then Dor began. And everything changed.

Sacrfice," the captain said. "You made one. I made one. We all made them. But you were angry over yours. You kept thinking about what you lost. You didn't get it. Sacrifice is a part of life. It's supposed to be. It's not something to regret. It's something to aspire to.

A memoir should have some uplifting quality, inspiring or illuminating, and that's what separates a life story that can influence other people.

Small towns are like metronomes; with the slightest flick, the beat changes.

We’re gonna make up for that. We’re gonna live a long time together.

What is it about childhood that never lets you go, even when you're so wrecked it's hard to believe you ever were a child?