The richness of the rain made me feel safe and protected; I have always considered the rain to be healing—a blanket—the comfort of a friend. Without at least some rain in any given day, or at least a cloud or two on the horizon, I feel overwhelmed by the information of sunlight and yearn for the vital, muffling gift of falling water.

There are few, if any, Canadian men that have never spelled their name in a snow bank.

New York is a theme park for people with IQs over 108.

The best part of my life is gone, and what remains is whizzing past so quickly I feel like I'm Krazy-Glue'ed onto a mechanical bull of a time machine.

I really do force myself to not be fully engaged with all the technology at once, just because I have an addictive personality and I get too into it.

I tried to think of a witty play on Every picture tells a thousand words, but then the whole word/picture thing collapsed on me.

I think writing would have happened to me anyway, somehow. Differently, but it still would have happened.