I know that’s what people say– you’ll get over it. I’d say it, too. But I know it’s not true. Oh, you’ll be happy again, never fear. But you won’t forget. Every time you fall in love it will be because something in the man reminds you of him.

from a tree grows in brooklyn

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Your heart, Mary Karr, he’d say. His pen touched my sternum, and it felt for all the world like the point of a dull spear as he said, Your heart knows what your head don’t. Or won’t.

from lit: a memoir

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Special things have a way of surviving.

from the world according to bertie

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Then he almost didn’t say the two sentences he’d been meaning to say for years: part of me is made of glass, and also, I love you.

from the history of love

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