I have long observed that the act of writing is viewed, by some, as an elite and otherworldly act, all the more so if a person isn't paid for what she writes.

For 25 years, I did take my responsibilities as a pleaser of others sufficiently seriously.

The real drug, I came to believe, was love.

[On home births:] In a house where there had been three people, there were now four, although no one had come in the door.

The painter who feels obligated to depict his subjects as uniformly beautiful or handsome and without flaws will fall short of making art.

She felt everything too deeply, it was like the world was too much for her.

The word NO, carries a lot more meaning when spoken by a parent who also knows how to say yes.