Heaven Is Comfort, But It's Still Not

How Could It Be That You Could Love Someone So Much And Keep It Secret From Yourself As You Woke Daily So Far From Home?

I Don't Do Much Public Speaking. I Did A Lot Of Stuff For Bones, And Then Ended Up Having Said Yes To A Lot Of Things That Kept Me On The Road For A While For That, But Then I Pretty Much Stopped. I'm Touring For This Book, But When The Tour Is Done, That'll Be The End Of It.

His Love For My Mother Wasn't About Looking Back And Loving Something That Would Never Change. It Was About Loving My Mother For Everything -- For Her Brokenness And Her Fleeing, For Her Being There Right Then In That Moment Before The Sun Rose And The Hospital Staff Came In. It Was About Touching That Hair With The Side Of His Fingertip, And Knowing Yet Plumbing Fearlessly The Depths Of Her Ocean Eyes.

My Grandmother Stepped Back Into The Kitchen To Get Their Drinks. I Had Come To Love Her More After Death Than I Ever Had On Earth. I Wish I Could Say That In That Moment In The Kitchen She Decided To Quit Drinking, But I Now Saw That Drinking Was A Part Of What Made Her Who She Was. If The Worst Of What She Left On Earth Was A Legacy Of Inebriated Support, It Was A Good Legacy In My Book. ~susie's Grandmother, Lynn Pgs 315-316

Those Who Say They Would Rather Fight To The Death Than Be Raped Are Fools. I Would Rather Be Raped A Thousand Times. You Do What You Have To.