I'm like the weather, never really can predict when this rain cloud's gonna burst; when it's the high or it's the low, when you might need a light jacket. Sometimes I'm the slush that sticks to the bottom of your work pants, but I can easily be the melting snowflakes clinging to your long lashes. I know that some people like: sunny and seventy-five, sunny and seventy-five, sunny and seventy-five, but you take me as I am and never forget to pack an umbrella.

Facts interest me less than the trailing smoke of stories.

Energy is everything. Rubbing happy and sad together creates energy.

I'm writing mostly to thank you for living you eighty years and to tell you I love you and think of you often.

Teaching and writing are separate, but serve/feed one another in so many ways. Writing travels the road inward, teaching, the road out - helping OTHERS move inward - it is an honor to be with others in the spirit of writing and encouragement.

Before you know what kindness really is you must lose things, feel the future dissolve in a moment like salt in a weakened broth.

I think the job of writing and literature is to encourage each one of us to believe that we're living in a story.