In Egypt, I loved the perfume of the lotus. A flower would bloom in the pool at dawn, filling the entire garden with a blue musk so powerful it seemed that even the fish and ducks would swoon. By night, the flower might wither but the perfume lasted. Fainter and fainter, but never quite gone. Even many days later, the lotus remained in the garden. Months would pass and a bee would alight near the spot where the lotus had blossomed, and its essence was released again, momentary but undeniable.

Since 1985, I have written about contemporary Jewish practice and the Jewish community.

Of all life's pleasures, only love owes no debt to death.

I like the way he danced. And then I like the way we danced together.

Shakespeare in Love... such smart writing of an alternative view of history, and such beautiful acting. Like most Americans, I'm a sucker for the accent.

The other reason women wanted daughters was to keep their memories alive.

The real Mary Poppins got lost when Hollywood turned her into a cream puff.