I was trying to find a new home in the world.

My mom died when I was 22. My stepfather, who I loved like a father, pretty quickly got involved with another woman. Suddenly there was another woman sleeping in my mother's bed, and it was very difficult. Their relationship brought up my profound loss, and the truth was that my family would never be the same again.

Love is our essential nutrient. Without it, life has little meaning. It's the best thing we have to give and the most valuable thing we receive. It's worthy of all the hullabaloo.

It's still true that literary works by women, gays, and writers of color are often framed as specific, rather than universal, small rather than big, personal or particular rather than socially significant.

There isn't a thing to eat down there in the rabbit hole of your bitterness except your own desperate heart.

Don't surrender all your joy for an idea you used to have about yourself that isn't true anymore.

Fear, to a great extent, is born of a story we tell ourselves.