One January Day, Thirty Years

In Haverford On The Platte The Townspeople Still Talk Of Lucy Gayheart.

That Is Happiness; To Be Dissolved Into Something Complete And Great.

Miracles Surround Us At Every Turn If We But Sharpen Our Perceptions Of Them.

Nothing Mattered ... But Writing Books, And Living The Kind Of Life That Made It Possible To Write Them.

In Great Misfortunes, People Want To Be Alone. They Have A Right To Be. And The Misfortunes That Occur Within One Are The Greatest. Surely The Saddest Thing In The World Is Falling Out Of Love--if Once One Has Ever Fallen In.