The truth has a ring of its own. You learn in time to identify it.

Minds are like oysters. They spoil if you pry them open.

Pain is like a new room in your house that you never knew you had. If you had known, you would have bolted and locked the room past any entering. But truly, it is a room like any other, four glaring white walls and a dark hard floor, and if you don't try to get out, it is possible to remain in it. Once you tried to get out, you ... couldn't ... stand ... it. Don't think of getting out.

The teeth of self-pity had gnawed away her essential self.

The three kinds of services you generally find in the Episcopal churches. I call them either low-and-lazy, broad-and-hazy, or high-and-crazy.

Facts - all facts - explain and confirm each other. They are only partially true until you link them together.

Pain is a new room in your house.