Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.

Hold those things that tell your history and protect them.

If I am not good to myself, how can I expect anyone else to be good to me?

People don't always remember what you say or even what you do, but they always remember how you make them feel.

While I know myself as a creation of God, I am also obligated to realize and remember that everyone else and everything else are also God's creation.

A story went the rounds about a San Franciscan white matron who refused to sit beside a Negro civilian on the streetcar, even after he made room for her on the seat. Her explanation was that she would not sit beside a draft dodger who was a Negro as well. She added that the least he could do was fight for his country the way her son was fighting on Iwo Jima. The story said that the man pulled his body away from the window to show an armless sleeve. He said quietly and with great dignity, "Then ask your son to look around for my arm, which I left over there.

One of the problems we have as writers is we don't take ourselves seriously while writing; being serious is setting aside a time and saying if it comes, good; if it doesn't come, good, I'll just sit here.