Doctoring her seemed to her as absurd as putting together the pieces of a broken vase. Her heart was broken. Why would they try to cure her with pills and powders?

Sometimes a broken heart can mend something else's brokenness

It is not the broken heart that kills, but broken pride, monseigneur.

If it's a broken part, replace it. If it's a broken arm, then brace it. If it's a broken heart, then face it.

We cannot love a person with an all accepting, transcending and encompassing love without being hurt somewhat, without being disappointed, without being failed of our expectations. We cannot love without being broken, yet we cannot continue in love without being stronger than our brokenness.

We hurt so much because we have lost a part of ourselves. If we have loved much, we must have given much also, and when everything's over, we feel as though we have lost everything.