Horses are a mirror of who you are. They're emotionally dependent on you.

I lived in a world that at any moment could erupt into fire. It was the sort of knowledge that kept you on your toes.

It's so much of what art and creativity are, being able to confront your own demons. If you can do that, you can get through just about everything.

Those shining stars, he liked to point out, were one of the special treats for people like us who lived out in the wilderness. Rich city folks, he'd say, lived in fancy apartments, but their air was so polluted they couldn't even see the stars. We'd have to be out of our minds to want to trade places with any of them.

But I also hoped that [she] had chosen California because she thought that was her true home, the place where she really belonged, where it was always warm and you could dance in the rain, pick grapes right off the vines, and sleep outside at night under the stars.

I wanted to let the world know that no one had a perfect life, that even the people who seemed to have it all had their secrets.

I hate Erma," I told Mom... "You have to show compassion for her..." She added that you should never hate anyone, even your worst enemies. "Everyone has something good about them," she said. "You have to find the redeeming quality and love the person for that." "Oh yeah?" I said. "How about Hitler? What was his redeeming quality?" "Hitler loved dogs," Mom said without hesitation.