I'd always hated running. Born-again joggers described how they got addicted to the rapture of running, how they achieved a nirvana known as a runner's high. Right. I'd always firmly believed that--mu...
He truly believed that no one could love him, and no matter who you are, that hurts. It made you insecure. It made you want to hide and build fences
For a short time, I hated them. But when you think about it, what good does that do?It takes so much to hold on to hate—you lose your grip on what's important, you know?
Few things, I assure you, will devastate like the might-have-beens.
Family and money is never a good mix. Someone is always going to feel resentful.
Confusion helps. Confusion leads to lengthy reconstruction and clarification and exposition and several other ions.
Certain problems cannot be solved if you are constantly entertained and distracted.
Another weird thing about funerals: Wear black but kill something as colorful as flowers to decorate.
A friend once told Megan that we are always seventeen years old, waiting for our lives to begin. More than ever, clutching to this man, Megan understood that.
You want to put people in neat categories, make them monsters or angels, but it almost never works that way. You work in the gray and frankly that kinda sucks. The extremes are so much easier.
Losing my parents was the most crushing thing that ever happened to me. I lost my dad when I was 26, and it changed my life entirely.
Looked me straight in the eye and spoke an indisputable truth: You don't know my life.
You can’t talk to our daughter without our permission, she says. I’ll have your badge.
When I got home, I poured myself one last quick drink. I took a deep sip and let the warm liquor travel to destinations well known. Yes, I drink. But I’m not a drunk. That’s not denial. I know I flirt...
We humans can’t see straight. We are always biased. We always protect our own interests.
We don’t pray in foxholes because we are ready to meet our Maker. We pray because we don’t want to.
They say possesions own you. Not so. Loved ones own you. You are forever held hostage once you care so much.
They - bliss and fear - are constant companions. Rarely does one venture out without the other.
There were some night paths the mind was better off not traversing;
There is silence, and then there is rural silence, silence you could feel and reach out and touch, silence with texture and distance.