And I remembered something else that makes us human: faith, the only weapon in our arsenal to battle doubt.

Dead isn’t angels or ghosts. It’s a physical state of breakdown, a change in all those carbon atoms that create the temporary house of a body so that they can return to their most elemental stage.

I've always sort of wondered: If everyone else's opinion is what matters, then do you ever really have one of your own?

Any highway . . . they all take you to the same place, don't they?

Some women are meant to change the world, while others are meant to hold it together. And then there are those of us who simply don't want to be in it, because we know no matter how much we struggle, we can't comfortably fit.

The apple . . . came before Adam and Eve in the story of creation. It had to have been there at least three years because that's how long it takes for a new tree to bear fruit.

Inside each of us is a monster; inside each of us is a saint. The real question is which one we nurture the most, which one will smite the other.