My father moved through theys of we, singing each new leaf out of each tree, (and every child was sure that spring danced when she heard my father sing).

With endless time, nothing is special. With no loss or sacrifice, we can’t appreciate what we have

We all know how to be a child. It's inside all of us. For me, it's just remembering how to enjoy it.

I had a very high-grade publisher tell me I was incapable of writing a memoir.

So many times I feel I'm using the same words over and over, like a woman wearing the same dress every day. So boring!

Did you feel guilty cursing God--you, of all people?' No,' he said. 'Because even in doing so, I was recognizing there was a greater power than me.' He paused. And that is how I began to heal.

the words people do not speak are louder than the ones they do.