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Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Every Wednesday night she would remind me to take the garbage can to the curb. In fifty years, I never once forgot, but she never gave me the benefit of the doubt. Drove me crazy. Now, I would give anything to hear her remind me again.”
It turns out that sharing the past with someone is different from reliving it when you’re alone. It feels less like a wound, more like a poultice.
It is amazing, I realize, how quickly lies compound. They cover like a coat of paint, one on top of the other, until you cannot remember what color you started with.
No matter how educated you are, no matter how irrational it seems, you will follow a glimmer of hope.
It’s the question mark that comes with death that we can’t face, not the period.
