I think adults must get sort of worn away over time, like rocks out at sea, but remain who they are, just slower and grayer with those funny vertical wrinkles in front of their ears. But the young are a different shape from one week to the next. To know us is to run alongside us, like someone trying to shout through the window of a moving train.

I've discovered that life doesn't always turn on the obvious things - people dying, marriages, all the stuff that gets carved on the tombstones - but little unrecorded things too.

...too often it's only children and old people who speak the truth. You just have to slow down and listen.

Ghosts are everywhere, not just the ghost of Momma in the woods, but ghosts of us too, what we used to be like in those long summers.