...she wanted God to make sense. He doesn't. He will make no more sense to me than I will make sense to an ant.

I used love like money, but love doesn't work like money. It is not a commodity. When we barter with it, we all lose. When the church does not love it's enemies, it fuels their rage. It makes them hate us more.

Other people keep our souls alive, just like food and water does with our body.

It made me wonder if the reasons our lives seem so muddled is because we keep walking into scenes in which we, along with the people around us, have no clear idea what we want.

It's possible to do both as a writer - to engage and have a family and all that good stuff - and I chose not to for the sake of the career.

I took William Zinsser's advice that you write to yourself and you hope that there are people out there who are like you.

It occurs to me it is not so much the aim of the devil to lure me with evil as it is to preoccupy me with the meaningless.