“The stories shatter. Or you wear them out or leave them behind. Over time the story of the memory loses its power. Over time you become someone else. Only when the honey turns to dust are you free.”

“It’s not that I couldn’t love you moreI loved you in a way I thought you deserved You thought you deserved moreI just didn’t see It”

“I dreamt — marvellous error! — that I had a beehive here inside my heart. And the golden bees were making white combs and sweet honey from my old failures.”

“Love drips like honey from the hive, constant, sweet, precious, into your heart each and every moment if you let it.”