All children are love children, he said, but only the best ones are ever called that.

Dismantling the architecture of my discontent

We find ourselves only by looking to what we’re not.

The real is always way ahead of what we can imagine.

No one wants to be part of a fiction, and even less so if that fiction is real.

I've been very lucky in this second marriage. It's just luck. It's absolute luck. And I can only marvel at it. So many other things could have happened that didn't, so overall I feel blessed.

Even you, who’ve lived inside your body for 64 years, would apparently be unable to recognize your foot in an isolated photograph of that foot, not to think of your ear or one of your eyes or elbow, also familiar to you in the context of the whole, but utterly anonymous when taken piece by piece. We are all aliens to ourselves, and if we have any sense of who we are, it is only because we live inside the eyes of others.