“And there was no way to unsay words you'd blurted out, no matter how sorry you were.”
“Sometimes it didn't matter how much gumption you had. What mattered were the cards you'd been dealt.”
“You don’t kiss the correct way,” she blurted out.”
“Thank goodness for the first snow, it was a reminder--no matter how old you became and how much you'd seen, things could still be new if you were willing to believe they still mattered.”
“Of course, not everything is unsayable in words, only the living truth.”
“I'm sorry, honey. I'm sure if you were a terrorist, you'd make a wonderful one”