This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder

Stem cell research has become such a polarizing issue in America... and I wanted to bring it down to the personal level, instead of the political.

I wondered why the head could move so swiftly while the heart dragged its feet.

If you want something to be true badly enough, you can rewrite it that way, in your head. You can even start to believe it.

The world just feels different for those of us who come alive after dark. It's more fragile and unreal, a replica of the one everyone else inhabits.

I have a sister, so I know-that relationship, it's all about fairness: you want your sibling to have exactly what you have-the same amount of toys, the same number of meatballs on your spaghetti, the same share of love. But being a mother is completely different. You want your child to have more than you ever did. You want to build a fire underneath her and watch her soar. It's bigger than words.

Bleeding heart, he’d called her. Well. He should know. He’d been the first to rip it to pieces.