The lessons this life has planted in my heart pertain more to caring than crops, more to Golden Rule than gold, more to the proper choice than to the popular choice.

Isn't it fascinating how long a few minutes seem when you are completely alone with not a familiar face in sight?

Why couldn't I be more like other girls my age? Take Mrs. Brown's niece. She spent every waking hour sizing up this beau or that, stitching tea towels and petticoats and putting aside a little each month for a set of Spode Buttercup dishes.

Our actions make the fragrance of our lives...Would you smell of plums? Or Vinegar?

Hon, when someone's a true friend, there's no need to miss 'em." She patted her chest. "'Cause they're always right here.

[Rejection] made me quit writing once. For six months. I started up again when my then seven-year-old son asked me to start writing again because I was too grumpy when I wasn't writing.

It's the company, not the cooking, that makes a meal.