More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
Gradually, lives wove together once again into a practical sort of fabric in which every thread crossed and recrossed the others through school and work and marriage, embroidering connections invisible to those not from the town.
Grief and distance bound the wound, perfecting the bond with a speed only nature could engineer.
The storms gradually follow winter to another corner of the earth, and summer comes, bearing a paler blue sky, a sharper gold sun.
History is that which is agreed upon by mutual consent.
He struggles to make sense of it—all this love, so bent out of shape, refracted, like light through the lens.
Dull aches of loss reawakened, as raw longing was soothed by that balm so long exhausted—hope.
