Lisa Moser

“Do you believe in God?” “Not really,” he said. “No.” “Then why do we come here?” He sucked thoughtfully on his Tums tablet and put his arm around me, draping me under his musty woolen prayer shawl, and then shrugged. “I’ve been wrong before,” he said.”
― Jonathan Tropper, This is Where I Leave You

“Pity, I've learned, is like a fart. You can tolerate your own, but you simply can't stand anyone else's.”
― Jonathan Tropper, How to Talk to a Widower