It's what they say to do when you're depressed, you know. Walk in someone else's shoes for a while, and your own won't feel so tight.

Writing, for me, is the best occupation I can think of, and there is nothing in the world I would rather do.

When you’ve found the right one - when you see him, when you’re with him - you’ll feel like you’re coming home.

One way to tell if you're really comfortable with a person is if you can be quiet together sometimes and not feel awkward. If you don't feel obligated to say something brilliant or funny or surprising or cool. You can just be together. You can just be.

…and I’m thinking how nothing is as simple as you guess-not right or wrong, not Judd Travers, not even me or this dog I got here. But the good part is I saved Shiloh and opened my eyes some. Now that ain’t bad for eleven.

There were so many of these moments that could never be captured accurately, even in the camcorder, only in the heart.

I used to think that when I grew up there wouldn't be so many rules. Back in elementary school there were rules about what entrance you used in the morning, what door you used going home, when you could talk in the library, how many paper towels you could use in the rest room, and how many drinks of water you could get during recess. And there was always somebody watching to make sure. What I'm finding out about growing older is that there are just as many rules about lots of things, but there's nobody watching.