“On that last day, somewhere ahead, inside an unseasonably warm winter night, he’ll say my name and leave a hole no one can fill – something to hold onto when my hands are full.”

“My hole is warm and full of light.”

“But my memories are like a fire in winter—whenever I'm cold I can warm my hands at them.—Ditta”

“With a quick check, he pulls out onto the road and we roar off in a trail of dust, leaving my stomach still somewhere on his driveway and my heart completely in his hands.”

“Your letter filled the hole in my day like a key.Turn it.”

“You don't become an 'artist' unless you've got something missing somewhere. Blaise Pascal called it a God-shaped hole. Everyone's got one but some are blacker and wider than others. It's a feeling of being abandoned,cut adrift in space and time-sometimes following the loss of a loved one. You can never completely fill that hole-you can try with songs,family,faith and by living a full life...but when things are silent, you can still hear the hissing of what's missing.”