I now believe that bêtes noires usually attack because we're thwarting our own destinies. Calming the beast turns us toward our best lives.

You can't stay well without telling--and living--the truth.

Recurrent floods of sadness and anger gradually wash away the rubble of the defunct relationship, leaving only the bits of treasure: the remembered moments of real communion, a new understanding of your own mistakes, a clear picture of the dysfunctions you will never tolerate again.

Breathe in, breathe out, no fear, no doubt.

Allowing children to show their guilt, show their grief, show their anger, takes the sting out of the situation.

Children who assume adult responsibilities feel old when they're young.

I have discovered that many of the things I thought were priceless are as cheap as costume jewelry, and much of what I labeled worthless was, all the time, filled with the kind of beauty that directly nourishes my soul... Now I think that the vast majority of us "normal" people spend our lives trashing our treasures and treasuring our trash. We bustle around trying to create the impression that we are hip, imperturbable, omniscient, in perfect control, when in fact we are awkward and scared and bewildered.