People who are isolated interest me, whether they isolate themselves or have been isolated by circumstances.

Our worst pain is confined within our own skin.

Claim your space. Draw a circle of light around it. Push back against the dark. Don't just survive. Celebrate.

Contentment is mostly a matter of talking yourself into believing that God will not strike you too hard for leaning in the direction of your hungers.

But she couldn't dismiss easily his light touch with her. No pushing or pressing, none of that herding and corralling bullshit, unlike any of her old boyfriends. And maybe who you fell for and who you eventually loved wasn't rational, no matter how hard you tried to list pros and cons and sum the results. You couldn't think your way through it, not all the way. Maybe just the scent of somebody carried more weight than everything else put together.

I've always thought Harper Lee might have made a great decision. Much as you'd like to have more books by her, there's something about just one that's kind of mysterious and nice. On the other hand, the New York gossip about me was that I'd never write another book. So I thought, 'Well, I will then.

[No] matter what a waste one has made of one's life, it is ever possible to find some path to redemption, however partial.