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

Parents rarely let go of their children, so children let go of them. They move on. They move away.

I hope you never hear those words. Your mom. She died. They are different than other words. They are too big to fit in your ears. They belong to some strange, heavy, powerful language that pounds away at the side of your head, a wrecking ball coming at you again and again, until finally, the words crack a hole large enough to fit inside your brain. And in so doing, they split you apart.

For as spiritual as some people think my books are, I've never really dealt with religious things.

Be compassionate," Morrie whispered. And take responsibility for each other. If we only learned those lessons, this world would be so much better a place." He took a breath, then added his mantra: "Love each other or die.

If you really could fit God in a file, you wouldn't need to believe in God, you know, you'd just go get the file like a box of corn flakes off the shelf.

Desire sets our compass, but real life steers our course.