Discover that we are capable of solitary joy and having experienced it, know that we have touched the core of self.

- Barbara Ascher

The hot, moist smell of babies fresh from naps.

- Barbara Ascher

Grief is like the wind. When it's blowing hard, you adjust your sails and run before it. If it blows too hard, you stay in the harbor, close the hatc…

- Barbara Ascher

From beginning to end this is a wet and blood smeared voyage, this begetting and birthing and moving away.

- Barbara Ascher

Siblings may be ambivalent about their relationships in life, but in death the power of their bond strangles the surviving heart. Death reminds us th…

- Barbara Ascher

A red brick Presbyterian church... captured by kudzu vines as surely as a butterfly in a net.

- Barbara Ascher