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Words are the weights which hold our history in place.

Beth Kephart

Forgiveness, which is the place that every story turns, the chance we give each other.
BETH KEPHART

Chance Giving Stories
Imagine music gushing down the hollow places in your bones, and making you liquid, and giving you speed. Imagine music turning your body into a song.
BETH KEPHART

Body Giving Song
Have you ever watched a leaf leave a tree? It falls upward first, and then it drifts toward the ground, just as I find myself drifting towards you.
BETH KEPHART

Falling Love Tree
Step out from behind the words. When you’re a writer you can imagine that the words speak for you and are you, but they’re not. You are this living breathing bad hair day kind of person.
BETH KEPHART

Breathing Hair Steps
Nothing erodes [a mother’s love]. It is not sand on a beach. It is the nuclear heart of things-hard as the rock of this earth.
BETH KEPHART

Beach Heart Mother
How do you know when an apology is true-when it means something, or can change something, or will last outside the moment?
BETH KEPHART

Apology Lasts Mean
We grow too old to lose old friends.
BETH KEPHART

Friends Grows Loses Old
Words are the weights which hold our history in place.
BETH KEPHART

History Weight Words
Nature is not the number-one mystery, I’ve learned. It’s the heart that takes top honors.
BETH KEPHART

Heart Honor Numbers
In high school, my desire for friendship far outweighed my talent for it.
BETH KEPHART

Desire Friendship School
I believe friends enclose us, like a pair of parentheses. Each one knows us differently, each sustains us in a different way.
BETH KEPHART

Believe Different Friends
You know how a river goes on and on? That’s my love for you.
BETH KEPHART

Goes Know River

Words are the weights which hold our history in place.

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Words are the weights which hold our history in place.

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