In the years since, I've discovered there's a lot to be said for boredom.

He had been (Thinking? Praying?) It was all the same thing.

Your job isn't to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up.

He had a massive stroke. He died with his tie on. Do you think that could be our generation's equivalent of that old saying about dying with your boots on?

I know your mother lives in your head - almost everyone's mother does, I guess - but you can't let her have her way on this one

Time apparently did nothing but blunt grief’s sharpest edge so that it hacked rather than sliced.

Life turns on a dime. Sometimes towards us, but more often it spins away, flirting and flashing as it goes: so long, honey, it was good while it lasted, wasn’t it?