What the river was showing her now was that she could flow beyond the brokenness, redeem herself, and fuse once more.

What the river was showing her now was that she could flow beyond the brokenness, redeem herself, and fuse once more.

I like to keep myself wrapped in layers of sleep and wait for the geraniums.

In language that's lyrical and haunting, Cheryl Strayed writes about bliss and loss, about the kind of grace that startles and transforms us in ordinary moments.

A perfectly happy marriage? There is no such thing. There are strong marriages that can survive problems, but happiness is such a brief condition, interrupted by difficulties and plain, boring routine.

About endings....unless we do them well, we have to keep repeating them.

The absence of doubt will turn humans into beasts.