At That Moment, Beauty Itself Struck Me

Of Course The Pace Of Change Never Slows, Even When We've Convinced Ourselves It Will.

At The Temple There Is A Poem Called "loss" Carved Into The Stone. It Has Three Words, But The Poet Has Scratched Them Out. You Cannot Read Loss, Only Feel It.

At That Moment, Beauty Itself Struck Me As A Kind Of Painful Melancholy.

If You Aren't The Woman I Think You Are, Then This Isn't The World I Thought It Was.

Sometimes We Get Through Adversity Only By Imagining What The World Might Be Like If Our Dreams Should Ever Come True.