These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence: the connections-sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost, but often magnificent-that happened after I was gone. And I began to see things in a way that let me hold the world without me in it.

What could he and she really know of each other, since it was his duty, as a "decent" fellow, to conceal his past from her, and hers, as a marriageable girl, to have no past to conceal?

I am very little inclined on any occasion to say anything unless I hope to produce some good by it.

Las lágrimas que curan son también las lágrimas que queman y mortifican.

Written By Stephen King

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