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“I was a hoarder, a collector of facts that I stored in my brain for later use, not knowing what this use might be.
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As soon as I saw him again I could forget all this existed; I would be calm. Was that a definition of love: a force that can drug you with calm and help you forget all the sandpaper realities of the world?
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Witnessing the pain of others is the very least you can do in this world. It's how you know that when your own turn comes, someone will be there with you.
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There is a difference between the facts of a person and the truth of him.
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Her mother had once told her that whoever cares the least has the greatest advantage.
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We were jigsawed, meant to fit together, making a whole picture.