You gotta imagine what's never been.

We have to acknowledge sometimes that this moment is enough. This place is enough. I am enough.

I marvel at how good I was before I met him, how I lived molded to the smallest space possible, my days the size of little beads that passed without passion through my fingers. So few people know what they're capable of. At forty-two I'd never done anything that took my own breath away, and I suppose now that was part of the problem - my chronic inability to astonish myself.

I'll write this all down for you," I said. "I'll put it in a story." I don't know if that's what he wanted to ask me, but it's something everybody wants--for someone to see the hurt done to them and set it down like it matters.

Have you ever written a letter you knew you could never mail but you needed to write it anyway?

I believe in the goodness of imagination.

There is nothing perfect...only life.