It's a jagged thing in my throat, how much I miss her.

That's how you know you really trust someone, I think; when you don't have to talk all the time to make sure they still like you or prove that you have interesting stuff to say.

When the reader and one narrator know something the other narrator does not, the opportunities for suspense and plot development and the shifting of reader sympathies get really interesting.

The kind of life I want is to be a person who would get a personal note every day.

Try a little tenderness.

I remember being in high school and listening to Vivaldi's 'Winter' and being so overwhelmed with emotion.

It makes me think of Lazarus. He must have had those shadows after his miracle. You don't spend time in the tomb without it changing you, and everyone who was waiting for you to come out.

I had them all fooled into believing I was normal and well-adjusted, a rock of sensibility who could always be counted on to have a positive attitude.

Life was mostly made up of things you couldn’t control, full of surprises, and they weren’t always good. Life wasn’t what you made it. You were what life made you.

Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

When the remembering was done, the forgetting could begin.

Always using the same methods is not God’s way

If we agree that God did not create poverty then, in my opinion, it came in to being as a consequence of human rights violations.

But all memories, no matter how distant, no matter how distorted, have the shadow of truth underneath. Even the most imperfect memory is a window—

The truth is, until you know any different, the island is enough.Actually, I know different. And it's still enough.

Notice the difference: A child’s disability is the focus in traditional classroom settings, but his abilities are the focus in the homeschool environment.

God meets daily needs daily. Not weekly or annually. He will give you what you need when it is needed.

I'm a real people-pleaser.

Jesus could weep. Sometimes when you look at the ugliness that makes you weep, you know that the heart of God is also weeping. Jesus is for real. He does not give up on anyone, least of all on me.

During my addled career as a trout fisherman I have gone on a lot of wild-goose chases, and I ruefully expect to go on a lot more before I hang up my waders

I'm not trying to snowboard for other people anymore. That just kind of comes with age and growing up. That's helped me a lot. Some of that started right after the last Olympics (in Vancouver).