Now, you and I both know that I’ll wait a lifetime for you – remember, Butterfly Weeds never give up – so take your time down there. And tonight, as you watch that big, orange sun disappear into the earth and your world gradually grow dark, I’ll help God turn on the stars, and I’ll wait for my dawn – when you return to me, Julia Stephens. I love you, My Butterfly. You’ll always be my endless song. Love always and forever, Your one and only Butterfly Weed, Will

— Laura Miller

She always used to say that the past is a relentless parasite in its quest, feeding off of the senses, looking for anything that will trigger a memory–forever there to complicate the present, forever there to remind us that it will always be a piece of us. I never had a clue as to what she meant, until now.

— Laura Miller

She tries to wear her pain on the inside. She always has. It’s the trademark of the oldest sibling, I think.

— Laura Miller

She was also a memory, the worst kind of memory--the kind that pulled you to your knees at just the sound of her name.

— Laura Miller

Tell me you’ve seen the world. Now, you’ve come back home Tell me you’ve carried me with you, That you’ve held me close. Tell me you’ve missed Moor that I’m not crazy for waiting cause Of all the butterflies that chose to stay, I’m in love with the one that got away

— Laura Miller

The closer and more completely you can come to explaining what a work of art means, the less like art it seems.

— Laura Miller

The past is a very determined ghost, haunting every chance it gets.

— Laura Miller

The past isn’t always as beautiful as we paint it in our minds.

— Laura Miller

There is an uncharacteristic radicalism to Lewis’s further suggestion that if we can find “even one reader to whom the cheap little book with its double columns and the lurid daub on its cover had been a lifelong delight, who had read and reread it, who would notice, and object, if a single word were changed, then, however little we could see in it ourselves and however it was despised by our friends and colleagues, we should not dare to put it beyond the pale.

— Laura Miller

We’re all livin’ in the past...we’re really always eighty milliseconds behind life happenin’. ...that’s how long it takes our brains to comprehend what’s already taken place right in front of our eyes. So, I guess I’m not alone. Everyone’s livin’ in the past, to some extent. I’ve just become a prisoner of mine. ... I’ve become a prisoner—willingly. But then I guess you really can’t be called a prisoner if you willingly carry the chains.

— Laura Miller