Lucy took a single plain donut from the bag and held it for me to take a bite. Tender and light and still warm from the frying. Not too sugary.

A dog could see your heart in your eyes, Budress told him, and dogs were drawn to our hearts.

She asked me why I always had something flip to say. I said that I didn't know, but having been blessed with the gift, I felt obliged to use it.

Everyone knows dogs. Most people love dogs. I think most American families probably have a dog, but I don't think people really realize or understand just how wonderful and special dogs are.

Dogs give us something just as we give something to them.

Everything we are is anchored in our childhoods. The drama comes in how we deal with it. Are we slaves to our past, or can we rise above it? This is the stuff of great stories.

The sense of smell in all dogs is their primary doorway to the world around them.

Sometimes I am so dry that people don't know I'm kidding and think I'm being serious. I enjoy this because their reactions are often funny.

People want you to be ordinary.

My books come to me in images, and sometimes the image is at the beginning of the book, and sometimes it's simply a flash somewhere in the middle.

My family was all police and hard hats at the refineries; they didn't know what to think about me. So I became a closet writer.

Those of us who are brave enough to venture out, find so many things that we never knew within.

As a man is said to have a right to his property, he may be equally said to have a property in his rights.

Sometimes history takes things into its own hands.

The process of my transformation came to a head with my discovery of St. Francis of Assisi during a pilgrimage I went on with a scout troop from my school.

You should try not to talk so much, friend. You'll sound far less stupid that way. - Breeze

It was a curious feeling, that something could be so close and so distant at the same time.

I'm not really a churchy person, although I do think Jesus was a good bloke.

He is slow, and the sea sings to us both, but he returns to me.

In a portrait, you always leave part of yourself behind.

I'll be damned for never a king's son in Christendom.