No One Can Write Like Cheryl Strayed.

My Daughter, Grace, Was Not Killed By A Gun. She Died Suddenly At Age 5 From A Virulent Form Of Strep. As I Stood Stunned In A Church At Her Memorial, One Of The Hardest Things I Heard Someone Say Was, 'i'm Going To Go Home And Hug My Child A Little Tighter.' 'well, Good For You,' I Thought. 'i'm Going To Go Home And Scream.'

A Sibling Is The Lens Through Which You See Your Childhood.

Love Is Reliable. Infatuation Is Temporary.

No One Can Write Like Cheryl Strayed.

I Was Kind Of An Outsider Growing Up, And I Preferred Reading To Being With Other Kids. When I Was About Seven, I Started To Write My Own Books. I Never Thought Of Myself As Wanting To Be A Writer-i Just Was One.