“I’ve always had some kind of connection to the things I’ve owned. Losing them left me feeling bereft because they were linked to everyone and everything in my life that was important. And unlike the people I loved, I could control them – At least I could when I wasn’t losing them. Objects are safe, too. I mean they don’t change much. A pen stays a pen and a set of keys always unlocks something. You can go back to an object, hold it, remember who you were when you loved it. That’s something you can count on.”

“Those other moments that I’ve been re-retuning to seem to fade a bit every time I go to them. It’s kind of like reading the same book over and over. You keep trying to capture what you felt when you first read it, but the feelings just aren’t ever as…magical.”

“It’s a known fact that in life, you can’t have everything. In my heart I knew I loved them both, as much as possible to love two people at the same time. Conrad and I were linked, we would always be linked. That wasn’t something I could do away with. I knew that now—that love wasn’t something you could erase, no matter how hard you tried.”

“The way you’re feeling right now makes you appreciate all the good times you have. All the pain of change and loss… those make you realize how much you love the things you have.”

“But love like that can be too big, too. It can be something you shouldn’t be trusted to hold when you’re the kind of person who drops the eggs and breaks the remote control.”

“Was there ever a true great love? Anyone who became the object of my obsession and not simply my affections? I honestly don't think so. In part, this was my fault. It was my nature, I suppose. I could not let myself be that unmindful. Isn't that what love is-losing your mind? You don't care what people think. You don't see your beloved's fault, the slight stinginess, the bit of carelessness, the occasional streak of meanness. You don't mind that he's beneath you socially, educationally, financially, and morally-that's the worst I think, deficient morals.I always minded. I was always cautious of what could go wrong, what was already "not ideal". I paid attention to divorce rates. I ask you this: What's the chance of finding a lasting marriage? Twenty percent? Ten? Did I know any woman who escaped having her heart crushed like a recyclable can? Not a one. From what I have observed, when the anesthesia of love wears off, there is always the pain of consequences. You don't have to be stupid to marry the wrong man.”

“Love like that is what they make movies about. It’s the thing you’re supposed to want, the answer to every question, the song that you’re supposed to sing. But love like that can be too big, too. It can be something you shouldn’t be trusted to hold when you’re the kind of person who drops the eggs and breaks the remote control. Love doesn’t break easily, I found. But people do.”