Perhaps this was the secret to being at peace: want nothing but what is given to you.

Jealousy clings to love’s underside like bats to a bridge.

Sorrow can be a bully.

Marrying Cal, the scion of a family whose wealth dated to the Industrial Revolution and had multiplied through every turn of the American economy since, ought to have eased her worries about failing to climb...

Tears filled Claire’s eyes but, as if they knew their place, didn’t leave.

In life, redemption was walking up the down escalator: stop to congratulate yourself, and back you slid.