I wanted to hit him. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to shout myself into his ear.

Whether we're talking about fish species, pigs, or some other eaten animal, is such suffering the most important thing in the world? Obviously not. But that's not the question. Is it more important that sushi, bacon, or chicken nuggets? That's the question.

A few days after we came home from the hospital, I sent a letter to a friend, including a photo of my son and some first impressions of fatherhood. He responded, simply, 'Everything is possible again.' It was the perfect thing to write, because that was exactly how it felt. We could retell our stories and make them better, more representative or aspirational. Or we could choose to tell different stories. The world itself had another chance.

September 11 had such a strong visual component, the most visually documented event in human history. Nothing's ever been seen by as many people as that was. Our experiences of the day, our memories of the day are just so tied up in images of buildings falling and bodies falling.

Cruelty depends on an understanding of cruelty, and the ability to choose against it. Or to choose to ignore it.

I want to talk about God in a literary way. But I think I would have a very hard time praying to God.

She laughed enough to migrate an entire flock of birds. That was how she said yes