“The mirror done broke and your life looking back at you from them sharp glass pieces.”

“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.”

“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.”

“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.”

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

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