When I see a paragraph shrinking under my eyes like a strip of bacon in a skillet, I know I'm on the right track.

The writer can only explore the inner space of his characters by perceptively navigating his own.

Time heals nothing — which should make us the better able to minister.

Gluttony is an emotional escape, a sign something is eating us.

There are times when parenthood seems nothing more than feeding the hand that bites you.

All couples must bear the strain of getting acquainted, having been, up to then, merely intimate.

Anyone informed that the universe is expanding and contracting in pulsations of eighty billion years has a right to ask. What's in it for me?