I guess there's a lot we hope for that never happens.

Or perhaps it is just that desire lies at the heart of human existence. When we turn away from one desire, we must find another to cleave to with all our strength --or else we die.

A problem becomes a problem only if you believe it to be so. And often others see you as you see yourself.

Above us our palace waits, the only one I've ever needed. Its walls are space, its floor is sky, its center everywhere. We rise; the shapes cluster around us in welcome, dissolving and forming again like fireflies in a summer evening.

Sometimes -- she knows this from her own life -- to get to the other side, you must travel through grief. No detours are possible.

But maybe as I get older, I begin to see beauty where I least expected it before.

Fenugreek, Tuesday's spice, when the air is green like mosses after rain.