I Stared At Her Black Hair. It

Books And Novels In Particular That Grapple With Quite A Few Things Are Difficult To Explain, So I Think That First Line Can Come In A Substitute For Trying To Form A Longer Sense Of What The Book Is About.

These Were The Lovely Bones That Had Grown Around My Absence: The Connections-sometimes Tenuous, Sometimes Made At Great Cost, But Often Magnificent-that Happened After I Was Gone. And I Began To See Things In A Way That Let Me Hold The World Without Me In It. The Events That My Death Wrought Were Merely The Bones Of A Body That Would Become Whole At Some Unpredictable Time In The Future. The Price Of What I Came To See As This Miraculous Body Had Been My Life.

The Moon Is Whole All The Time, But We Can’t Always See It. What We See Is An Almost Moon Or Not-quite Moon. The Rest Is Hiding Just Out Of View, But There’s Only One Moon, So We Follow It In The Sky. We Plan Our Lives Based On Its Rhythms And Tides.

Loss Could Be Used As A Measure Of Beauty In A Woman.

Then A Little Voice In Him Said, Let Go, Let Go, Let Go