Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

Let’s talk, you and I. Let’s talk about fear. The house is empty as I write this; a cold February rain is falling outside. It’s night. Sometimes when the wind blows the way it’s blowing now, we lose the power. But for now it’s on, and so let’s talk very honestly about fear. Let’s talk very rationally about moving to the rim of madnessand... and perhaps over the edge.

If it's OK to register cars and license drivers, why is it not OK to impose similar legal responsibilities on gun owners?

The scariest moment is always just before you start.

I can't understand why people use religion to hurt each other when there's already so much pain in the world.

Here I am, ninety years old and ready for the cooling board, using a brand new Macintosh computer, and there you sit, twenty-two and gorgeous, fresh as a new peach, yet scrawling on a yellow legal pad like an old maid in a Victorian romance.

Fear is the emotion that makes us blind.