If you want to understand any woman, you must first ask about her mother and then listen carefully.

I moved my arms through the water, feeling them float on the surface, watching the waves and wake that followed my gesture. Here was magic, I thought. Here was something holy.

There's something almost adolescent about Whitman's paean to everything that was and remains good about America.

They sang the words in unison, yet somehow created a web of sounds with their voices. It was like hearing a piece of fabric woven with all the colors of a rainbow. I did not know that such beauty could be formed by the human mouth. I had never heard harmony before.

One of my great secrets was knowing I had the power to make her smile.

I pray I die before they day comes when I do not know if my sons are infants or grandfathers.

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