Half an ear cocked, something in me, all night, every night, is waiting for you to come home.

I am in flight from my story every day, and it dogs me like a faithful stray.

Children live in the same world we do. To kid ourselves that we can shelter them from it isn't just naive it's a vanity.

Got nothing to do with trying. You like someone, or you don't. If you're 'trying', you don't.

I was suffering from the delusion that it's the thought that counts.

When you've been afraid of something for long enough and it comes to pass, the terrible thing is a release. For in the belly of the badness there is no more fear.

I realize it's commonplace for parents to say to their child sternly, 'I love you, but I don't always like you.' But what kind of love is that? It seems to me that comes down to, 'I'm not oblivious to you - that is, you can still hurt my feelings - but I can't stand having you around.' Who wants to be loved like that? Given a choice, I might skip the deep blood tie and settle for being liked. I wonder if wouldn't have been more moved if my own mother had taken me in her arms and said, 'I like you.' I wonder if just enjoying your kid's company isn't more important.