When he spoke, the roughness was gone from his voice. "I could tell you I did it. That's what you wanna hear. I could tell you she did it to herself, but both ways I'd be lying. It was you who did it, Lily. You didn't mean it, but it was you.

Sometimes, in order to say yes to what matters most, I must say no to good things.

We have to acknowledge sometimes that this moment is enough. This place is enough. I am enough.

I think many people need, even require, a narrative version of their life. I seem to be one of them. Writing memoir is, in some ways, a work of wholeness.

Whatever else you do, listen to your Deepest Self. Love Her and be true to Her, speak Her truth, always.

We become what we pay attention to.

We are so limited, you have to use the same word for loving Rosaleen as you do for loving Coke with peanuts. Isn't that a shame we don't have many more ways to say it?