Maria Semple

It was pouring buckets

That was happiness. Not the framed greatest hits, but the moments between. At the time, I hadn’t pegged them as being particularly happy. But now, looking back at those phantom snapshots, I’m struck by my calm, my ease, the evident comfort with my life.
I’m happy in retrospect.

It wasn’t the end of Bucky that had Eleanor living in Technicolor. It was being a sister again. There was no relief deeper than being loved by the person who’d known you the longes