“Camille died a few days later. Our daughter's hearts bear the first real cracks they have had to endure since we came into each other's lives. Our girls had a lot of laughs to give Camille in the years ahead; she had a lot of love for them. But I think that some lives are like diamonds. They pack a lot of light and brilliance into a small space.”

“When I was a little boy, say 17 months old, I lived in the forest. I was raised by bears. We had a good time. We laughed a lot. At least I think we laughed a lot. I can’t really say, because I was too young to remember.”

“Thanks a lot. You could have cut the girl some slack. We haven't had anything pretty to look at around here since Bradley's old golder retriever died died last fall.”

“It was in the spring that Josephine and I had first loved each other, or, at least, had first come into the full knowledge that we loved. I think that we must have loved each other all our lives, and that each succeeding spring was a word in the revelation of that love, not to be understood until, in the fullness of time, the whole sentence was written out in that most beautiful of all beautiful springs.”

“Some days I think she was really miserable, because she cried a lot. In a way, I'd had to steel my heart to her crying. You need to steel yourself to a lot of things when someone in your family is really sick.”

“She had a lot of hugs to give, but not enough people to give them to.”