I don't read "letters" sections of magazines, but I'll read anyone's blog post about me.

I love sushi, but I'm not going to write a column about it.

When wine drinkers tell me they taste notes of cherries, tobacco and rose petals, usually all I can detect is a whole lot of jackass.

Reporting in general makes me pretty nervous. But I realized: all the amazing work experiences of my life were thanks to reporting. So that forces you to go do it.

Online reaction is very different than real-world reaction.

I think the local food movement has been taken to idiotic extremes. And so I wrote about that and people got pissed.

I always thought that being at Time and tweaking your bosses and exploiting your expense account was just fun. Just joyous.

I'm not that clued into what people are that touchy about and how many of them there are and how niche these niches are.

People are different in different situations and people are different online than they are in real life.

I have a really high bar for being angry. Like, it doesn't even happen every year.

I've gotten thicker skin mostly from being older. You just stop caring quite as much about everything.

Still reading but learning a lot about true education and the process of guiding our children in their educational pursuits.

If you cannot judge a book by its cover, surely we should not judge an author by one book alone?

How do we become who we are in the world? We ask the world to teach us. But we have to ask with an open heart, with no idea of what the answer will be.

If you plan on being anything less than you are capable of being, you will probably be unhappy all the days of your life.

I think my head's a minefield strewn with triggers, and maybe if I survive each explosion, what emerges from the wreckage will be me, really, truly me.

Each generation, we peel back biases that have blinded those before us. The more we know about the past enables us to ask richer and more provocative questions about who we are today.

Certainly there are great men whose age circumscribes them so completely that we lose interest.

How beautiful the silent hour, when morning and evening thus sit together, hand in hand, beneath the starless sky of midnight!

If I create from the heart, nearly everything works; if from the head, almost nothing.

Every day is deeper and richer and more soulful.