The real Santa Claus is at the mall.

In the secret pocket, she often kept a small pocket dictionary, which she would take out whenever she encountered a word she did not know.

There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.

I found powerful the idea that everything we have is, in effect, stolen from everybody else.

Everybody will die, but very few people want to be reminded of that fact.

Are you who I think you are?

Just because something is traditional is no reason to do it, of course.