My idea of a productive day, as both a child and an adult, was reading for hours and staring out the window.

The Hours is in fact a lovely triumph. Cunningham honors both Mrs. Dalloway and its creator with unerring sensitivity, thanks to his modesty of intention and his sovereignly affecting prose.... With his elliptical evocation of Mrs. Dalloway, he has managed to pay great but quiet tribute -- reminding us of the gorgeous, ferocious beauty of what endures.

I'd confused need with love and love with sacrifice.

What they never tell you about grief is that missing someone is the simple part.

If writers possess a common temperament, it's that they tend to be shy egomaniacs; publicity is the spotlight they suffer for the recognition they crave.

The real hell of this," he told her, "is that you're going to get through it.

the mother's first job is to raise a daughter strong enough to outlast her.