The words were strung in the air like garland. She could almost see them.

I should let people in. If they leave, they leave. If I break, I break. It happens to everyone. Right?

There was an art to the male posterior. That's all there was to it.

How can we know the true meaning of charity if we don't even know how to help those closest to us?

Watching them, she realized they made so much sense together. Every look, every touch, was a reassurance, almost electric, as if they were shocking each other with every contact.

When you're happy for yourself, it fills you. When you're happy for someone else, it pours over.

Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.