Dear Anna, we will live in a home with no walls, so that everywhere we go will be our home.

Sometimes I can feel my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.

If it had and answer, it wouldn't really be love, would it?

You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.

I felt, that night, on that stage, under that skull, incredibly close to everything in the universe, but also extremely alone.

When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table. I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.

I usually write away from home, in coffee shops, on trains, on planes, in friends’ houses. I like places where there’s stuff going on that you can lift your eyes, see something interesting, overhear a conversation.