From my table inside I watch the glamorous women outside who are lunching on Spa Cobb salads without blue cheese or dressing. The man with the bread basket wanders from table to table, lonesome as a cloud. When he comes to me his basket is full and perfectly arranged. He gives me a smile of sincere pleasure when I tell him I will take both the sourdough roll and the cheese stick.

Sometimes if there's a book you really want to read, you have to write it yourself.

I know where I'm going. And if I don't know where I'm going, I don't tend to get anywhere.

I could teach. I could wait tables. I could cook in a restaurant. Food and teaching were the two skills I had.

You can’t pick up and leave everything behind because there is too much sadness in the world and not enough places to go.

For a man to know what he has when he had it, that is what makes him a fortunate man.

I don't want to stand with somebody's praise. Whereas now when people come up to me, they say, "I love the bookstore" and "Kids! Come here, come here! This is the woman who owns the bookstore." That's incredible. I can say to that, "Thank you for shopping local. Thank you for coming in. What are you reading? Let's talk about books." It's about something I'm doing as opposed to somehow something I am. I feel comfortable and positive in that role. Because it's about reading. It's about books. It's about learning. It's about business and tax base.