I have the most charmed, most - I feel entirely blessed and lucky that I have the life that I have.

The point of flight. To get rid of oneself. That was reason enough to fly.

We have to admire the world for not ending on us.

It struck me that distant cities are designed precisely so you can know where you came from.

Part of me really wants to believe that hope is entirely available to all of us. We don't have to embrace it. It would be sentimental and silly to say that we all need it, but it is absolutely available to all of us.

I write about what I know; and I write about things that are new to me, and that I didn't know before.

What was a life anyway? An accumulation of small shelves of incident.