I don't hate anyone. The only people I know well enough to hate, I love.

Love is given to us as a time, but to keep it always, we must make it a place.

No one complains of being a prisoner of love who has ever been a prisoner of loneliness.

It's like this. Father Time keeps pitching the years at us. We swing and miss at a few. We hit a few out of the park. We try not to take any called strikes.

Before you pledge your undying love to someone, make them promise they won't die.

Does it seem sometimes that you are always the one to break an embarrassing silence — and always by saying something more embarrassing than the silence?

I find in old age that it's possible to revisit the past, the one requirement being that you come as you are.