Researchers warn us against walking out on married life without a dang good reason.

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.

Looking for the perfect day is not going to make us happy, because that day isn't going to come.

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

One thing that blocks flow is self-consciousness.

When I was a kid, my mother's parenting style teetered between benign neglect and intense bouts of violence.

Artists and writers have to understand and live the truth that what we are doing is nourishing the world.