“Everyone wanted to believe that endless love was possible. She'd believed in it once too, back when she was eighteen. But she knew that love was messy, just like life. It took turns that people couldn't foresee or even understand, leaving a long trail of regret in its wake. And almost always, those regrets led to the kinds of what if questions that could never be answered.”

“It took turns that people couldn’t foresee or even understand, leaving a long trail of regret in its wake. And almost always, those regrets led to the kinds of what if questions that could never be answered.”

“Mom?” I say as I slip on my boots. “I know you were only eighteen when you met Dad. I mean, that’s really young to meet the person you spend the rest of your life with. Do you ever regret it?”She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lies back on my bed and clasps her hands behind her head, pondering my question.“I’ve never regretted it. Questioned it? Sure. But never regretted.""Is there a difference?” I ask.“Absolutely. Regret is counterproductive. It’s looking back on a past that you can’t change. Questioning things as they occur can prevent regret in the future. I questioned a lot about my relationship with your father. People make spontaneous decisions based on of their hearts all the time. There’s so much more to relationships than just love.”

“So many steps a woman takes in her life will not be remembered. And most of her tracks will be erased. But there will always be those certain steps she'll never regret, the ones she'd never forget - those glistening steps she took for herself.”

“Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat youright. Forget about those who don’t. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a chance, take it. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it.”

“Once the back of their hands brushed on the table, and Therese's skin there felt seperately alive and rather burning. There could not understand it, but it was so. Therese glanced at her face that was somewhat turned away, and again she knew that instant of half-recognition. And knew, too, that it was not to be believed. She had never seen the woman before. If she had, could she had forgotten?”