Love and sausage are alike. Can never have enough of either.

Hope, however, isn't all that's needed to achieve change. Hope is a hand extended, but two hands are required to be pulled out of this deep hole. The second hand was faith.

The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss.

Some days I'm lucky to squeeze out a page of copy that pleases me, but I get as many as six or seven pages on a very good day; the average is probably three pages.

I think it's perfectly just to refuse service to anyone based on behavior, but not based on race or religion.

People couldn't bear to go on living if they faced every cold truth about themselves.

Given my heritage and the ordeal of my childhood, I sometimes wonder why I myself am not insane. Maybe I am.