Written on her tombstone: "I told you I was sick.

I never leaf through a copy of National Geographic without realizing how lucky we are to live in a society where it is traditional to wear clothes.

I remember thinking how often we look, but never see ... we listen, but never hear ... we exist, but never feel. We take our relationships for granted. A house is only a place. It has no life of its own. It needs human voices, activity and laughter to come alive.

One son appears in stereo - a transistor in one ear and the phone in the other.

Did you ever notice that the first piece of luggage on the carousel never belongs to anyone?

No one ever died from sleeping in an unmade bed.

Getting out of the hospital is a lot like resigning from a book club. You're not out of it until the computer says you're out of it.