That was when we smelled the rain. It was so strong it seemed like more than just a smell. When we stretched out our hands we could practically feel it rising up from the ground. I don’t know how a person could ever describe that scent.

I don't look like who I am.

Anybody can get worked up, if they have the intention. It's peacefulness that is hard to come by on purpose.

There were two things about Mama. One is she always expected the best out of me. And the other is that then no matter what I did, whatever I came home with, she acted like it was the moon I had just hung up in the sky and plugged in all the stars. Like I was that good.

Perhaps growing up meant we put our knives away and feigned ignorance of the damage.

The very least you can do in your life is to figure out what you hope for!

Something in me was always watching life from the outside, permanently obsessed with the notion of belonging vs. not-belonging [to a group]. It did not make for a happy childhood, but it was excellent training for a writer.