There were thousands of households throughout that city and there was something happening in all of them. There was some kind of story in each, but self-contained. No one else knew. No one else cared.

Even the simplest wicker basket can become priceless when it is loved and cared for through the generations of a family.

It sounds crazy, to think that I cared so much without ever talking to you.

She didn’t care about anything, or maybe she cared too much.

Who cares, who cares. The perennial adolescent riposte. I cared, of course. I cared what people thought. I always did care. Unlike Laura, I have never had the courage of my convictions.