Getting lost is just another way of saying ‘going exploring.

He knew me in all the ways that truly mattered: the shape of my fears, the contours of my dreams.

My confidence was of the hothouse variety, carefully cultivated under highly regulated conditions. One wrong look, one mean comment, and my facade would wither.

North-ish.” A pause, and then: “Is that Terra for I’m lost-ish?

Flawed, we’re truly interesting, truly memorable, and yes, truly beautiful.

Jacob: “Let her stare.”Terra: “What?”Jacob: “Yeah most of the starers are just curious. Smile back. That’s what I used to do.

Safe, I decided, didn’t leave much room for fun.

This is beautiful,” I said, ignoring the shop window to trace the gleaming stone walls fronting another boutique.”You know what’s funny?” Jacob asked. He didn’t wait for my answer. “You can see beauty in everything,...

Hey, if it’s a good philosophy, it works. Death is imminent. Live every day like it’s your last.

So, really,” continued Jacob as if this were perfectly normal to expound on art in these circumstances, “when you think about it, the artists who make people stop and think, who push the form, who...

I didn’t know that the world could be so mind-blowingly beautiful.

I wondered about her chicken-and-egg relationship with Dad. Which came first? Her helplessness or his controlling?

What swells inside me is a love so boundless, I am the sunrise and sunset. I am Liberty Bell in the Cascades. I am Beihai Lake. I am every beautiful, truly beautiful, thing I’ve ever...

The pressure of his touch through my jacket and my sweater was more assurance than any promise ever made to me. It was a touch that said, I have your back and I am here...

If art made you think, then this was Art. Staring at the ball, made of layers and layers of cloth, I wondered about the glass marble at its heart. What if you wanted to reach...

Progress is hard on history.

To dream is to starve doubt, feed hope.

Adventure in life is good; consistency in coffee even better.

I preferred my brand of beauty where Norah was more beautiful than any bimbette, and Mom was beautiful whether sized extra-small or extra-large. Where Peony could look at herself in the mirror and murmur, wow,...

Come on, don’t you ever stop and smell the coffee?

Maybe getting around in life was nothing but map-reading. A skill that required practice. A key to unlock where you wanted to go. A legend to show where you were.

There must be a few times in life when you stand at a precipice of a decision. When you know there will forever be a Before and an After…I knew there would be no turning...

Wait!”What?” I lowered my cup hastily, wondering if maybe there was a stray hair, or worse, a newly boiled bug inside my cup.You got to smell it first. It’s the proper way to cup coffee.”Cup...

What would it be like to look in the mirror and actually accept what you see? Not loathe the reflection, or despise it, or be resigned to it? But to like it?

From her dubious tone alone, I could see how Karin had no idea how terrifying words spoken quietly could be. How words chosen precisely to wreak maximum damage ticked like a bomb in your head,...

how many times had I begged Mom to divorce him already?

When the creative impulse sweeps over you, grab it. You grab it and honor it and use it, because momentum is a rare gift.

Silence, too, can be torture.