I've learned that memories can have a physical, almost living presence.

Setting is a major aspect in writing all of my books, both in terms of natural and cultural environments.

Eventually I came across another passage. This is what it said: I am not commanding you, but I want to treat the sincerity of your love by comparing it to the earnestness of others. The words made me choke up again, and just as I was about to cry, the meaning of it suddenly became clear. God had finally answered me, and I suddenly knew what I had to do.

People want pretty much the same things: They wanted to be happy. Most young people seemed to think that those things lay somewhere in the future, while most older people believed they lay in the past.

I'd like to marry you, if you think that would be okay.

I gave you the best of me, he'd told her once, and with every beat of her son's heart, she knew he'd done exactly that.

Just when you think it can't get worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it will. But as long as you remember that he loves you and you love him you'll be just fine.