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.

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

The absence of doubt will turn humans into beasts.

I don't write for an audience. I write for myself. And if I imagine an audience at all, it's the characters, but I know that I would keep writing even if no one ever published me again, even if no one ever read me again.

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

Some acts of faith, I believe, have the power to grant us something infinitely wiser than we imagine