"The first breath of autumn was in the air, a prodigal feeling, a feeling of wanting, taking, and keeping before it is too late."

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Back in the autumn I had awakened to a growing darkness and cacophony, as if something in the depths were crying out. A whole chorus of voices. Orphaned voices. They seemed to speak for all the unlived parts of me, and they came with a force and dazzle that I couldn't contain. They seemed to explode the boundaries of my existence. I know now that they were the clamor of a new self struggling to be born.

— Sue Monk Kidd