I wake up thinking of yesterday. The joy is in remembering; the pain is in knowing it was yesterday.

I was sixteen and equipped with the appropriate genitalia, so I cleared that hurdle nicely.

I wake up thinking of yesterday. The joy is in remembering; the pain is in knowing it was yesterday.

It's only in the finer points that it gets complicated and contentious, the inability to realize that no matter what our religion or gender or race or geographic background, we all have about 98 percent in common with each other.... For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that's different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

Pride is allowed to have an element of worry, especially when you are a mother.

How do you commemorate a year? A paper anniversary, but we are the words written down, not the paper.

The unwarranted devotion. Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone. The hope tinged with doubt, and the doubt tinged with hope. Every time I see these feelings in someone else's face, it weighs me down.