Everything changes. The more I try to hold on to the moment, the more it slips through my fingers.

Writing well involves walking the path of most resistance. Sitting still, being patient, allowing the lunatic dream to take shape on the page, then the shaping, the pencil on the page, breathing, slowing down, being willing–no, more than willing, being wide open–to press the bruise until it blossoms.

I found myself doing so much public speaking, more and more and bigger and bigger.

Moving to the country has been incredibly good for my work, for my sense of perspective.

This sadness wasn't a huge part of me--I wasn't remotely depressed--but still, it was like a stone I carried in my pocket. I always knew it was there. [p. 179]

There's something about urban life - you walk out your door, and you're in a steady of stream of life happening around you, and it's very easy to get caught up in that stream and simply kind of keep on moving.

I was doing a lot of yoga and learning to meditate, and I found that extremely helpful, and still do and hopefully always will.