I thought about the days i had handed over to a bottle..the nights i can't remember..the mornings i slept thru..all the time spent running from myself.

The length of your days does not belong to you.

Fear is how you lose your life...a little bit at a time...What we give to fear, we take away from...faith.

My mother was French Protestant, and my father was Italian Catholic, and their union was an excess of God, guilt and sauce.

If you could pack for heaven, this was how you'd do it, touching everything, taking nothing.

Going back to something is harder than you think.

I find interesting characters or lessons that resonate with people and sometimes I write about them in the sports pages, sometimes I write them in a column, sometimes in a novel, sometimes a play or sometimes in nonfiction. But at the core I always say to myself, 'Is there a story here? Is this something people want to read?'