We do have to use our minds as far as they will take us, yet acknowledging that they cannot take us all the way.

I suspect that in every good marriage there are times when love seems to be over.

The primary needs can be filled without language. We can eat, sleep, make love, build a house, bear children, without language. But we cannot ask questions. We cannot ask, 'Who am I? Who are you? Why?

Why does anybody tell a story? It does indeed have something to do with faith. Faith that the universe has meaning, that our little human lives are not irrelevant, that what we choose or say or do matters, matters cosmically.

I rebel against death, yet I know that it is how I respond to death's inevitability that is going to make me less or more fully alive.

It's not my brain that's writing the book, it's these hands of mine.

A long-term marriage has to move beyond chemistry to compatibility, to friendship, to companionship. It is certainly not that passion disappears, but that it is conjoined with other ways of love.