“He scrambled to grab a hose and pointed it at us. A pathetic stream of water trickled out.What are you going to do? Giguhl said. Moisten us?”

“Writers show us the glades we'd missed, the trickling voices of streams, the eyes of a barn owl watching us. A writer like my father revealed a shape and movement amid it all, layers, meaning, perspective, joy, because he paid such careful attention, and paying attention is about the biggest redemption there is.”

“You belong with us," he said quietly. "Nothing's going to change that.”

“Do you not weep? Other sins only speak, murder shreaks out:The element of water moistens the earth,But blood flies upwards and bedews the heavens.”

“Life gives us choices. You either grab on with both hands and just go for it, or you sit on the sidelines.”

“I had the fleeting thought then that we are each of us pathetic in one way or another, and the trick is to marry a person whose patheticness you can tolerate.”