There is a purpose to our lives that each day tugs at our sleeve as an annoying distraction.

There are couples a matchmaker would match every time - and couples who, for no rhyme or reason, rhyme.

Looking back on our lives, we invariably find that the person we pretended to be is the person we became.

Stored away in some brain cell is the image of a long-departed aunt you haven't thought of in 30 years. Stored away in another cell is the image of a pink pony stitched on your first set of baby pajamas. All it takes to get that aunt mounted on the back of that pony is to eat a hunk of meatloaf immediately before going to bed.

The first goal of writing is to have one's words read successfully.

There are subjects in which I wish to become knowledgeable, and subjects in which I wish to remain wise.

We all know the part of us that needs to be harnessed. It takes someone else to know the part of us that needs to be set free.