There is nothing about resilience that I can say that my father did not first utter silently in eighteen years of living inside a two-dimensional cutout of himself.

Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before. You can fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you've lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that's good.

Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before.

Because of what I did when I was 10 years old, I'm not living from paycheck to paycheck, and I can do things because I want to do them.

Nothing I can say or devise, and nothing anybody else can say or devise, is going to be perfect.

I'm eighteen years behind in my ironing.