No one measures a life in weeks and days. You measure life in years and by the things that happen to you.

Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

Family or love or romance, whatever it is, is not restricted to perfect people. If it were, it wouldn't exist. All of that comes out in my work in some way.

I had them all fooled into believing I was normal and well-adjusted, a rock of sensibility who could always be counted on to have a positive attitude.

Because love, love never finishes.

I grew up in San Francisco in the 1970s. We were part of a church that belonged to the California Jesus movement.

Sometimes rescue comes to you. It just shows up, and you do nothing. Maybe you deserve it, maybe you don't. But be ready, when it comes, to decide if you will take the outstretched hand and let it pull you ashore.