“How many times could a mother's heart break? An infinite number of times. Each time her children were hurt. She'd long ago accepted the pain of it, as well as the stoicism to never let it show. It was a mother's lot in life.”

“This time her heart would not break, even though it would hurt and hurt for a long time to come. Perhaps for the rest of her life. But it would not break. She had the strength to go on alone.”

“She thought it lovely, and at the same time felt relief that, at the moment, her heart kept silent. A speaking heart could break-she knew that very well. As long as hers remained content, she'd stay relaxed and happy.”

“How lucky Drew was to have this mother of hers, this constant, reliable, if at times irritating presence in her life--this mother, like so many other mothers, beloved and blamed. Lucky she was to have experience, through her mother, the twisted intricaciesof deep, and deeply complex, love.”

“She talks of the desertion. How each time it broke her heart. How with each break it became harder to heal.”

“I was also told that there is no greater prayer than that of a mother for her children. These are the purest prayers because of their intense desire and, at times, sense of desperation. A mother has the ability to give her heart to her children and to implore mightily before God for them.”