Memories are small prayers to God, if we believed in that sort of thing.

I have no need for the past, I thought, like a child. I did not consider that the past might have a need for me.

Everything that's born has to die, which means our lives are like skyscrapers. The smoke rises at different speeds, but they're all on fire, and we're all trapped.

The paper, the stapler, the staples, the tape. It makes me sick. Physical things. Forty years of loving someone becomes staples and tape.

We shouldn't be intimidated by someone else's idea of perfection if it will prevent us from taking steps we actively want to take.

I went to the guest room and pretended to write. I hit the space bar again and again and again. My life story was spaces.

Living on a planet of fixed size requires compromise, and while we are the only party capable of negotiating, we are not the only party at the table. We've never claimed more, and we've never had less.