It is a great paradox and a great injustice that writers write because we fear death and want to leave something indestructible in our wake and, at the same time, are drawn to all the things that kill: whiskey and cigarettes, unprotected sex, and deep-fried burritos.

Everything is freedom and everything is loneliness. Make your choice and let the rest fall away.

In our cultural history, all emotions have been more culturally acceptable to women.

I've been thinking about disowning some of my genes lately. I have a few healthy, happy, long-living optimists in my family tree - most of them fans of Christian Science founder Mary Baker Eddy, a major champion of positive thinking. But I've got plenty of ancestors who played out more tortured hands.

I don't know if my mother was a narcissist - or bi-polar or borderline. Those were words she tossed around over the years.

I've never been socially outgoing, but I suspect I've gotten more and more ambivalent about making new friends. I'm irritated by how-do-you-do chit-chat, but that's how new relationships usually begin.

When you study postpartum depression, there is a very clear understanding that in communities where you see more support, there is less depression.