If it's important, your heart remembers.

There is something in us that loves certain disasters and the fever of this moment and surrendering to that.

Cooking is 80 percent confidence, a skill best acquired starting from when the apron strings wrap around you twice.

Silence has many advantages. When you do not speak, other people presume you to be deaf or feeble-minded and promptly make a show of their own limitations.

The power is in the balance: we are our injuries, as much as we are our successes.

When we traded homemaking for careers, we were implicitly promised economic independence and worldly influence. But a devil of a bargain it has turned out to be in terms of daily life. We gave up the aroma of warm bread rising, the measured pace of nurturing routines, the creative task of molding our families' tastes and zest for life; we received in exchange the minivan and the Lunchable.

Recall that whatever lofty things you might accomplish today, you will do them only because you first ate something that grew out of the dirt.