There is something about that moment, when literature becomes accessible, and a door of the world opens.

I see all of them. All the colors.

Mama was crying, and the rain made it seem as if the whole world was crying.

Even trained for years as they all had been in precision of language, what words could you use which would give another the experience of sunshine?

I was a sidelines child: never class president, never team captain, never the one with the most valentines in my box.

I have learned over the course of my many years that it is a bad idea, usually, to investigate piteous weeping but always a fine thing to look into a giggle.

The fact that I lost my son permeates my being.