I have noticed before that there is a category of acquaintanceship that is not friendship or business or romance, but speculation, fascination.

Twenty-five, he was. Twenty-five tomorrow. Some years the snow had melted for his birthday, but not this year, and so it had been a long winter full of cows.

Even if my marriage is falling apart and my children are unhappy, there is still a part of me that says, 'God, this is fascinating!'

A theory of creativity is actually just a metaphor. A pool of ideas, a well of memories, a voice.

Candy is my fuel. Ice cream, too.

As soon as you bring up money, I notice, conversation gets sociological, then political, then moral.

I learned why 'out riding alone' is an oxymoron: An equestrian is never alone, is always sensing the other being, the mysterious but also understandable living being that is the horse.