She [my mother] said that if I listened to her, later I would know what she knew: where true words came from, always from up high, above everything else. And if I didn't listen to her, she said my ear would bend too easily to other people, all saying words that had no lasting meaning, because they came from the bottom of their hearts, where their own desires lived, a place where I could not belong.

My mother had a look on her face that I'll never forget. It was one of complete despair and horror, for losing Bing, for being so foolish as to think she could use faith to change fate.

You see what power is holding someone else's fear in your hand and showing it to them.

Whenever my mother talks to me, she begins the conversation as if we were already in the middle of an argument.

It's a luxury being a writer, because all you ever think about is life.

From what I have observed, when the anesthesia of love wears off, there is always the pain of consequences. You don't have to be stupid to marry the wrong man.

My mother said I was a clingy kid until I was about four. I also remember that from the age of eight she and I fought almost every day.