“The leaves of our blessed lives fall to the ground and if we're wise like my grandfather, we gather them in a pile and keep them safe lest the winds of forgetfulness blow them away.”

“The wind is us-- it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.”

“I saw myself, sharply, as a wanderer, an adventurer, rocking through the world, unanchored.[...]The wind of my life was blowing me away.[...]I take the blue envelope...and tear it slowly into many pieces, watching them dance in the wind, watching the wind carry them away. Yet as I turn and begin walking toward the waiting people, the wind blows some of them back on me.”

“She gazed up at him. "Just don't forget our new motto, Leo. 'We can always murder them later, but we can't bring them back.'""My wise and clever Bride.”

“She was a finisher, unlike them -- she didn’t wait for leaves to fall and see where they’d land, or even waste time anticipating which way the wind would blow them. No, she was the storm that ripped the leaves from trees and determined their path... -SHEgo, 2010”

“I had this sudden awareness,' she continues, 'of how the moments of our lives go out of existence before we're conscious of having lived them. It's only a relatively few moments that we get to keep and carry with us for the rest of our lives. Those moments are our lives. Or maybe it's more like those moments are the dots in what we call our lives, or the lines we draw between them, connecting them into imaginary pictures of ourselves.”