What was wrong with me? I had a decent life. I was healthy. I wasn’t starving or maimed by a land mine or orphaned. Yet somehow, it wasn’t enough. I had a hole in me, and everything I took for granted slipped through it like sand.
―  Jodi Picoult, Handle With Care
My mother… she is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her.
― Jodi Picoult