I don't love you anymore", she whispered. "I don't love you at all." His throat closed. "It's all right, sweetheart. I love you enough for both of us.

You foolish man. Of course there's love. Don't you know? I love you.

Pride had kept her running when love had betrayed her.

You try spending six months sitting at somebody's bedside, waiting for them to die and then tell me that the happy-ending love story isn't one of God's good gifts.

She loved Bram in a clear-eyed way she’d never loved her ex-husband, no rose-colored glasses or mindless giddiness, no Cinderella fantasies or false certainty that he’d put her life in order. What she felt for Bram was messy, honest, and soul-deep. He felt like…part of her, the best and the worst. Like someone she wanted to struggle through life with; share triumphs and catastrophes; share holidays, birthdays, every days

She was kind of crying, too, because she liked happy endings. Then she realized it wasn't an ending at all. As she gazed around at all these people she loved, she knew that everybody here was just getting started.