Charlie Hebdo was and is not The Onion or "The Daily Show." This is a different kind of satire. Might I put it this way - less politically correct.

Despite the reams of paperwork, obstacles worthy of a horse show, and a wait that can rival an elephant's gestation, adoption feels no different on the inside.

There are times when the adoption process is exhausting and painful and makes you want to scream. But, I am told, so does childbirth.

Race, blood, lineage, and nationality don't matter; they're just the way that small minds keep score. All that matters about blood is that it's warm and that it beats through a loving heart.

Srebrenica's not simply another reminder of man's inhumanity to man, but how intelligent people can always come up with intelligent reasons to do nothing.

When they mention great little things in life, they usually forget flossing.

Senator Sanders, of course, has campaigned for Hillary Clinton. But what about his legions of supporters?

Reading will put you into the minds and hearts of others. It might help you understand why other people do what they do sometimes.

I take Charb's point, but at some point has Charlie Hebdo been trying to have it both ways because some of what they do is not funny.

Almost every continent in the world, including our own, has refugees. But how often when we hear the word do we pause to remind ourselves what being a refugee means?

One of the reasons we think this market will start to run out of gas at some point is that you've essentially created as much gold from straw as you can from this financial alchemy

The sudden appearance of pain and pressure are not indicative of an injury, but of the presence of suppressed emotions.

People are mostly layers of violence and tenderness wrapped like bulbs, and it is difficult to say what makes them onions or hyacinths.

Middle age: when you're sitting at home on Saturday night and the telephone rings and you hope it isn't for you.

Who among us has the strength to oppose petty egoism, those petty good feelings, pity and remorse?

Best performance of the year: Aston Villa v. Milan, September 1994

To be able to share in another's joy, that is the secret of happiness.

I did not wish to take a cabin passage, but rather to go before the mast and on the deck of the world, for there I could best see the moonlight amid the mountains. I do not wish to go below now.

I would say being deeply involved in the art world would help keep a young artist on track. Doing what you love, so that your focus is your artistry.

(His) sadness grew; it became a rock inside him, pulling him down. He carried the sadness everywhere, morning, noon, and night. It hurt to breathe.

As long as I am focusing on the faults of others, then I don't have to face my own.