Love, like truth, is the unassailable defense.

Nature is also great fun. To pretend that nature isn't fun is to miss much of the joy of being alive.

Which is crueler, an old man's lost memories of a life lived, or a young man's lost memories of the life he meant to live?

A poem records emotions and moods that lie beyond normal language, that can only be patched together and hinted at metaphorically.

All relationships change the brain - but most important are the intimate bonds that foster or fail us, altering the delicate circuits that shape memories, emotions and that ultimate souvenir, the self.

I consider fiction a very high-class form of lying. I enjoy and admire it enormously, but I don't think I'm very good at it.

Working from home meant we could vary snack and coffee breaks, change our desks or view, goof off, drink on the job, even spend the day in pajamas, and often meet to gossip or share ideas. On the other hand, we bossed ourselves around, set impossible goals, and demanded longer hours than office jobs usually entail. It was the ultimate "flextime," in that it depended on how flexible we felt each day, given deadlines, distractions, and workaholic crescendos.