Each of us in our own small sphere can do something. And we can, we must.

There can be no deeper despair, no pain less easy to assuage, than losing a husband when you are young.

I really don't know what's happened to me, but I have changed from top to toe. I am living in a strange mixture of memories of yesterday and today.

There is beauty in the midst of tragedy. As if beauty were condensing in the heart of ugliness. It's very strange.

It's a wonderful, inspiring feeling to have real friends who love and understand you. I have never had that feeling before.

This book made me feel strangely awkward, because I'm afraid of finding my own story in it. I take books too seriously.