I felt a splinter of guilt wedge into my heart. Charlotte had hurt me; in return, I'd hurt Rob. Maybe that's what we do to the people we love: take shots in the dark and realize too late we've wounded the people we're trying to protect.
Maybe mothers - consciously or subconsciously - repelled their daughters in different ways.
Sometimes, mothers say and do things that seem like they don't want their kids... but when you look more closely, you realize that they're doing those kids a favor. They're just trying to give them a better life.
It felt like I'd been living underground, and for a moment, I'd been given this glimpse of the sky. Once you've seen that, how can you go back where you came from?
Lawyers were notorious for finding cases in the most unlikely places, especially ones with huge potential damagers awards.
I wondered why the head could move so swiftly while the heart dragged its feet.
When you love someone - when you create a child with him - you don't just suddenly lose that bond. Like any other energy, it can't be destroyed, just channeled into something else.
So much of marriage was implicit and nonverbal. Had I gotten so complacent I'd forgotten to communicate?
The cost of growth is always a small act of violence.
I think there are two different oceans - the one that plays with you in the summer, and the one that gets so mad in the winter.
What was wrong with me? I had a decent life. I was healthy. I wasn't starving or maimed by a land mine or orphaned. Yet somehow, it wasn't enough. I had a hole in me, and everything I took for granted slipped through it like sand. I felt like I had swallowed yeast, like whatever evil was festering inside me had doubled in size.
I told myself that if I didn't care, this wouldn't have hurt so much - surely that proved I was alive and human and all those touchy-feely things, for once and for all. But that wasn't a relief, not when I felt like a skyscraper with dynamite on every floor.
Somewhere along the line, organized religion stopped being about faith, and started being about who had the power to keep the faith. You said that the purpose of religion was to bring people together. But does it, really? Or does it-knowingly, purposefully, and intentionally--break them apart?
It's just like nurses in a hospital tend to know more than the doctors most of the time; if you really want to get the answers to a question about court, you should spend more time buttering up the clerks than the judges.
You live and let live, eventually that becomes enough.
You’ll tell yourself anything you have to, to pretend that you’re still the one in control.
No one gets to start where they left off; it just doesn't work that way.
Not everyone understands how you can spin two lassos at the same time, one of hope and one of grief.
Wheather it is conscious or not, you eventually make the decision to divide your life in half - before and after - with loss being that tight bubble in the middle. You can move around in spite of it; you can laugh and smile and carry on with your life, but all it takes is one slow range of motion, a doubling over, to be fully aware of the empty space at your center.
In this new place we've found, sometimes there aren't words, because the truth can be even more difficult than the lies.
It's like the psychiatrists themselves are buying into that stupid belief that therapy is something to hide.
We make messes of our lives, but every now and then, we manage to do something that's exactly right. The challenge is figuring out which is which.
Once the world was pulled out from beneath your feet, did you ever get to stand on firm ground again?
What’s the difference between spending your life trying to be invisible, or pretending to be the person you think everyone wants you to be? Either way, you’re faking.
Or. I hate that word. It’s two letters long and stuffed to the gills with reasonable doubt.
"Everyone still deserves to have their say."
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