I don't know very many people who can piece together eloquent prayers when their souls are wounded. Words don't come at those times, but tears do. I have always thought of my tears as prayers.

We moved wordlessly from one room to another, from the room of the dead to the room where time lay in pages everywhere I looked.

I used to think mercy meant showing kindness to someone who didn't deserve it, as if only the recipient defined the act. The girl in between has learned that mercy is defined by its giver. Our flaws are obvious, yet we are loved and able to love, if we choose, because there is that bit of the divine still smoldering in us.

The past hadn't been erased just because a new future had been handed it.

Confidence tends to minimize the magnitude of the choice.

When you only do what is expected of you, you never learn what you would've done had you chosen for yourself.

Dissecting a book was the same as making sense of life. You have to find a way to interpret life, or you'll go nuts.