I wake up in that state of grief when you can tell you've been mourning even in your sleep. — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“I lie on my bed and slip into a troubled, bereft sleep full of falling women and the barking of dogs always out of sight.” — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“Anyway, I thought, it's wishful thinking, all this talk of ghosts. If the dead wandered among us, their spirits still present on this earth,… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“Walking out of the store with my parrot & sushi, I feel hideous, like everything I've done must be written on my skin. I… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“That's the fundamental flaw in the illusion that writers like to maintain, the idea that we can craft anything approaching the truth. No matter… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
How can it be, I wondered, that we can be lying in bed next to a person we love wholly and helplessly, a person… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“This is happening; this is not fiction. And the thing about life? It doesn't have texture at all. Go ahead, feel the space around… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“I remember my wife in white. I remember her walking toward me on our wedding day, a bouquet of red flowers in her hand,… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
The conclusion I have reached is that, above all, dogs are witnesses. They are allowed access to our most private moments. They are there… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
It's true, isn't it, that each of us has two hearts? The secret heart, curled behind like a fist, living gnarled and shrunken beneath… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
The simplest thing that can be said about any person, any relationship, is that it's not simple at all. — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
“The unexpected thing, the miraculous thing, is when a car that's been shattered in a crash, that's been left in the rain to rust… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
What's it like, Lexy? You wake up and you feel - what? Heaviness, an ache inside, a weight, yes. A soft crumpling of the… — Carolyn Parkhurst Copy Share Image
