The imagination is a wonderful thing; it allows for all manner of undiscoverable sins.

If it's true love, then it will abide. If it was a fleeting crush, then it will turn to dust. Either way, the truth will out.

In fiction, I searched for my favorite authors, women I have trusted to reassure me than not all teenage guys are total ditwads, that the archetype of the noble cute hero who devotes himself to the girl he loves has not gone the way of the rotary phone. That all I had to do was be myself (smart, hardworking, funny) and be patient and kind and he and I would find each other. As Bea would say, this why they call it fiction.

The imagination is a wonderful thing; it allows for all manner of undiscoverable sins.

Risk is the universe's way of pushing us to become more than what we are. Risk is faith at the edge. Risk is the pulsating nature of life.

It's the closest I've come to touching immortality, by reading the words of dead people.

A mother is a mother from the moment her baby is first placed in her arms until eternity. It didn't matter if her child were three, thirteen, or thirty.