“The could never have explained Bonaventure anyway because there is no scientific word for miraculous.”

“Love transcended loss long enough for them to find that the depth of feeling is best known in silence, because in the presence of such love words are never quite enough.”

“Their hands never touched, not even in an accidental brushing, and that was a good thing, for real intimacy has a dawn.”

“The fire sings to the marshmallow, and the song turns the marshmallow brown because that's what marshmallows do when they're happy.”

“Before long the formed into a circle, and neither of them could imagine being a straight line again, caught in the loneliness of blunt severed ends.”

“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa”—my fault, my fault, my most grievous fault—as she pounded her fist to her chest three times as if pounding shut a door to keep her guilt from escaping.”

“Please God, please God, can you please tell me why? I ask this of you, yet in my heart, I know.”