A place where your life exists before you live it, and where it goes afterwards.

[Y]ou can tell a true war story by its absolute and uncompromising allegiance to obscenity and evil.

...his love was too much for him, he felt paralyzed, he wanted to sleep inside her lungs and breathe her blood and be smothered.

They carried all they could bear, and then some, including a silent awe for the terrible power of the things they carried.

...you find yourself studying the fine colors on the river, you feel wonder and awe at the setting of the sun, and you are filled with a hard, aching love for how the world could be and always should be, but now is not.

Even then, at nine years old, I wanted to live inside her body. I wanted to melt into her bones - THAT kind of love.

But this too is true: stories can save us.