In The Custom Of Mourning, The Fabric

That's The Paradox Of Loss: How Can Something That's Gone Weigh Us Down So Much?

It's Never The Differences Between People That Suprise Us. It's The Things That, Against All Odds, We Have In Common.

The Cost Of Growth Is Always A Small Act Of Violence.

We Have Been Naive Enough To Believe That We Were Invincible; That We Could Run Blind Through The Hairpin Turns Of Life At Treacherous Speeds And Never Crash.

Fiction Allows For Moral Questioning, But Through The Back Door. Personally, I Like Books That Make You Think - Books You're Still Wondering About Three Days After You Finish Them; Books You Hand To A Friend And Say "read This, So We Can Talk About It."