As I apologized to her a flicker of panic raced through me and then faded away. There wasn't enough life left in me to panic. I'd made a mistake and I was dying. Apparently not even a Speck afterlife was available to me. I'd simply stop being. Apparently I hadn't died correctly. Oops.

When you spring to an idea, and decide it is truth, without evidence, you blind yourself to other possibilities.

Home is people. Not a place. If you go back there after the people are gone, then all you can see is what is not there any more.

Not being able to think of a reply is not the same thing as accepting another's words.

Love isn't just about feeling sure of the other person, knowing what he would give up for you. It's knowing with certainty what you are willing to surrender for his sake. Make no mistake; each partner gives up something. Individual dreams are surrendered for a shared one.

Perhaps having the courage to find a better path is having the courage to risk making new mistakes.

To be honest, I don't think of any of my characters as minor characters - they're all the main characters in a story that I don't necessarily get to tell.