We are conjured voiceless out of nothing and must return to an unknowing state. What happens in between is an uncontrolled dance, and what we ask for in love is no more than a momentary chance to get the steps right, to move in harmony until the music stops.

There are people who are always, I think, going to remain people of the book, to use another author's title, but people of the book, who really must be around.

Ravens are the birds I'll miss most when I die. If only the darkness into which we must look were composed of the black light of their limber intelligence. If only we did not have to die at all. Instead, become ravens.

But then as time passed, I learned the lesson that parents do early on. You fail sometimes. No matter how much you love your children, there are times you slip. There are moments you can't give, stutter, lose your temper, or simply lose face with the world, and you can't explain this to a child.

Money helps, though not so much as you think when you don't have it.

What happens when you let an unsatisfactory present go on long enough? It becomes your entire history.

People forget the good, because the bad has more punch.