This ability to exist in pieces is what some adults call resilience. And I suppose in some way it is a kind of resilience, a horrible resilience that makes adults believe children forget trauma.

I do love to eavesdrop. It's inspirational, not only for subject matter but for actual dialogue, the way people talk.

I used to live a very social life and never spend much solitary time looking at birds or reading.

I run a tight ship, but I try and make it seem like I'm not doing that at all.

The thing I call ‘my mind’ seems to be kind of like a landlord that doesn’t really know its tenants.

When you think about it, giving up your real personality is a small price to pay for the richness of living happily ever after with an actual man!

But when the thing that is scaring you is already Jesus, who are you supposed to pray to?