At times, my nostalgia for our family life as it used to be--for our own imperfect, cherished, irretrievable past--is nearly overwhelming.

Alone-in moments of prayer or meditation, or simply in stillness-we breathe more deeply, see more fully, hear more keenly. We notice more, and in the process, we return to what is sacred.

Solitude is the soul's holiday, an opportunity to stop doing for others and to surprise and delight ourselves instead.

Growth and transformation occur not by changing who we are, but as we summon the courage to be who we are.

It has taken awhile, but I certainly do know it now ­­– the most wonderful gift I had, the gift I finally learned to cherish above all else, was the gift of all those perfectly ordinary days.

I can only bring peace to my children when I possess it myself.

We are the windows through which our children first see the world. Let us be conscious of the view.

Now I see that the journey was never meant to lead to some new and improved version of me; that it has always been about coming home to who I already am.

In stillness, we find our peace. Knowing peace at home, we bring peace into the world.

Stay focused on what is beautiful and abundant even as illness carves more and more of what you love away

Life finds its balance. Children grow up. Second chances come along. In the meantime, I could choose to savor this moment. What good would it do to allow annoyance to interfere with gratitude?

you will not be master of my body & my property

There's a profit attached to every problem. Find it, face it and fix it.

It is sort of weird being honored for the worst day of your life.

I feel like I'm back in business now, and I'm managing pretty well as a single mum. I've proved to myself I can do it. You come out the other end and think, 'Wow, I'm pretty good at this!'

I wonder a lot about making things meaningful. You want to do meaningful work and make art, but you're making records, which is good, but you don't want to weight them - it's a very curious thing.

We'll just have to find more flowers in the spring. That's when they bloom, tra la.

I make non-fiction partly because I'm not that good of a writer. My talent, if I have any, is in balancing, capturing and directing reality, rather than creating scenarios.

Music is the expression of the will of nature while all other arts are expressions of the idea of nature.

The willow which bends to the tempest often escapes better than the oak which resists it.

The tallest and the smallest among us are so alike diminutive and pitifully base, it is a meanness to calculate the difference.