He might have been naive, but he didn't care; he said he's rather die with his heart on his sleeve than end up another cynic.

A book is completed only when it is finished by a reader.

I write articles, and I do profiles of members of organizations and associations.

Goodness was more difficult than evil. Evil men knew that more than good men. That's why they became evil. That's why it stuck with them. Evil was for those who could never reach the truth. It was a mask for stupidity and lack of love. Even if people laughed at the notion of goodness, if they found it sentimental, or nostalgic, it didn't matter -- it was none of those things, he said, and it had to be fought for.

I was fascinated by the lack of a word for a parent who has lost a child. We have no word in English. I thought for sure there'd be a word in Irish but there is none. And then I looked in several other languages and could not find one, until I found the word Sh'khol in Hebrew. I'm still not sure why so many languages don't have a word for this sort of bereavement, this shadowing.

So much of her time spent like this: dreaming up things to say and never quite saying them.

She likes the people with the endurance to tolerate the drudge, the ones who know that pain is a requirement, not a curse.