My theory is that the world is a difficult place to live in and distraction is the name of the game.

I write the way women have babies. You don't know it's going to be like that. If you did, there's no way you would go through with it.

She is convinced that when language dies, out of carelessness, disuse, indifference and absence of esteem, or killed by fiat, not only she herself, but all users and makers are accountable for its demise. In her country children have bitten their tongues off and use bullets instead to iterate the voice of speechlessness, of disabled and disabling language, of language adults have abandoned altogether as a device for grappling with meaning, providing guidance, or expressing love.

I always looked upon the acts of racist exclusion, or insult, as pitiable, from the other person. I never absorbed that. I always thought that there was something deficient about such people.

Isolation, you know, carries the seeds of its own destruction because as times change, other things seep in.

When a child walks in the room, your child or anybody else’s child, do your eyes light up? That’s what they’re looking for.

As you enter positions of trust and power, dream a little before you think.