Graveyards might have housed the dead below the ground, but what lay above was always for the living; they were the places where people came to deal with the break between what their lives had once been and what they now were.

Perhaps life was just a matter of doing what you thought was best at the time and then living with the consequences as best you could afterward.

As you get older, it all begins to blur into one. You start to think life was never any kind of straight line. It was always more of a … scribble.”

When people think they’ve worked something out for themselves, they become more invested in holding on to it as truth.

Absence of evidence was not evidence of absence. The fact that I hadn’t found anything didn’t mean there was nothing to find, only that I would never be sure.

It’s going to be okay. Yes, I think about that a lot. How every good parent says it, and how often they’re wrong.

It’s going to be okay. Twenty-five years have passed, but I still think about that a lot. It’s what all good parents tell their children. And yet what does it really amount to? It’s a hope, a wish. A hostage to fortune. It’s a promise you have to make, and one you must do your best to believe in, because what else is there?