I think I have sort of gravitated toward issues that I don't know the answers to, because that's what's more interesting for me to write.

I don't believe in God. But sitting there, in a room full of those who feel otherwise, I realize that I do believe in people. In their strength to help each other, and to thrive in spite of the odds, I believe that the extraordinary trumps the ordinary, any day. I believe that having something to hope for -- even if it's just a better tomorrow -- is the most powerful drug on this planet.

Safety is relative. You can be so close to shore that you can practically feel it under your feet, when you suddenly find yourself breaking apart on the rocks.

It was like trying to bail out an ocean of water with a teaspoon.

In half hour my mother has managed to give me what my father couldn't: my past.

If history has a habit of repeating itself, doesn't someone have to stay behind to shout out a warning?

Torn between fear and something that resembled love, she wrestled with questions she never dreamed she would face: How could she leave? Then again, how could she stay?