If our goal is to be tolerant of people who are different than we are, then we really are aiming quite low. Traffic jams are to be tolerated. People are to be celebrated.

During my drinking decades, I lived like a pig. My room was a hazardous pile of stilettos, tube tops, wine bottles, ashtrays, and old magazines. I valued nothing. Everything that came into my life was disposable: clothes, opportunities, people. My bedroom looked as if my insides had spilled out onto the floor.

A good day is a good day. A bad day is a good story.

Don't let yourself become so concerned with raising a good kid that you forget you already have one.

I still get very high and very low in life. Daily. But I've finally accepted the fact that sensitive is just how I was made, that I don't have to hide it and I don't have to fix it. I'm not broken.

I think that sometimes quitting is exactly the right thing to do. Quitting something that's not working requires self-awareness and courage.

The only meaningful thing we can offer one another is love. Not advice, not questions about our choices, not suggestions for the future, just love.