I'm deeply curious about Jewish things. I've toyed around with the idea of going to rabbinical school.

Why didn't he say goodbye? I gave myself a bruise. Why didn't he say 'I love you'?

It is unrealistic to think you can have an inflexible identity that never has to give or take or make compromises.

I know lots and lots and lots of vegetarians who think it's perfectly all right to kill animals for food to eat, but don't do it because they think all the ways in which it's done are wrong.

Sometimes you have to put your fears in order.

I want an infinitely blank book and the rest of time.

And here I am, instead of there. I'm sitting in this library, thousands of miles from my life, writing another letter I know I won't be able to send, no matter how hard I try and how much I want to. How did that boy making love behind that shed become this man writing this letter at this table?