“The thought weaves into her unexpectedly, as so many thoughts do, time again. How do you make the remembering stop?”

“The angels threw glitter up there, just for you, Zoe, Daddy had told her. They celebrated almost as much as I did the day you were born. Every time you look up there you remember how special you are - so special the angels threw a big party.”

“Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop.”

“A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten . . .”

“I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.”

“I suppose you're right about some perspectives. Just a few weeks ago, I thought you were a dickhead.”

“No matter how much they want it, or how much I want it, I can't make it happen. The feeling of failure is familiar. I always tried so hard to be everything they wanted”