When you get older you think of sadness in a different way. You don't judge it so harshly.
In some ways, Mary thought, Irma lived her whole life anxious to get things over with, as if she knew the end of her story all along, and didn’t feel the middle pages worth the effort of a read.
As I grew older, I found I could surrender my own comfort so effortlessly it didn't qualify as sacrifice.
If you don’t like something about yourself, change it. If you’re okay with it, you gotta own it. There’s nothing in between.
How could she have been so ungrateful? She envied the French singer who regretted nothing. She regretted all.
You don’t like something about yourself, change it. If you’re okay with it, you gotta own it. There’s nothing in between.
Wake in bed and know, because dreams are not true, that the sun will be shining and it will not storm today.
There's too much information out there. And not enough smart people.
Ruby is my sister. And strangely, undeniably, my child.
Mary reached into her vinyl purse and extracted one of the novels, each of whose covers had promised laughter and tears. She began to read and, finding a masterful storyteller behind its pages, was in...
I feel, holding books, accommodating their weight and breathing their dust, an abiding love. I trust them, in a way that I can't trust my computer, though I couldn't do without it. Books are matter. M...
Before she closed her eyes tonight, Rose said she regretted that she has not done something heroic in her life. Well, it's not like she can suddenly climb a tree and save a cat, or go to medical schoo...
The climb speaks to our character, but the view, I think, to our souls
Read it slow as you can. It's like a fine meal. You don't want to gulp it, but savor it so you can taste it in your memory when you're lone done.
It’s not that you like being sad, but you start to see the value of it. You don’t judge sadness so harshly.
It was Aunt Lovey's belief that all ordinary people led extraordinary lives, but just didn't notice.
In those dangerous narrows grew children who knew too much too young but, sadly, always seemed to learn too little too late.
In sleep, my sister and I found a common breath. In dreams, we knew the moon.
Her changing perception of time had altered the sum of her reflections.
You think about these words a lot, and there are not many things, when you come right down to it, that you'll be happy to see the end of.