Death is the great gamer with a sleeve of tricks.

Writing, for me, is a search for God.

There is so much truth in children and so little self-consciousness. It always strikes me that they are so capable of losing and finding themselves and also losing and finding those things they feel close to.

His own life seemed so solitary, a fragile column supporting nothing amidst the wreckage of the years.

How can the dead be truly dead when they still live in the souls of those who are left behind?

Don't you loathe it when doctors use the word 'we' when it applies only and solely to yourself?

This was her, Mick Kelly, walking in the daytime and by herself at night. In the hot sun and in the dark with all the plans and feelings. This music was her—the real plain her...This music did not take a long time or a short time. It did not have anything to do with time going by at all. She sat with her arms around her legs, biting her salty knee very hard. The whole world was this symphony, and there was not enough of her to listen... Now that it was over there was only her heart beating like a rabbit and this terrible hurt.