Sometimes, in life, nothing happens. But, sometimes, nothing happens beautifully.

The world spins. We stumble on. It is enough.

I write about what I know; and I write about things that are new to me, and that I didn't know before.

The thing about love is that we come alive in bodies not our own.

Long ago, long ago. The simple things come back to us. They rest for a moment by our ribcages then suddenly reach in and twist our hearts a notch backward.

There are moments we return to, now and always. Family is like water - it has a memory of what it once filled, always trying to get back to the original stream.

There's a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we've left it.

We have to admire the world for not ending on us.

It was a silence that heard itself, awful and beautiful.

Give life long enough and it will solve all your problems, including the one of being alive.

Even if people laughed at the notion of goodness, if they found it sentimental, or nostalgic, it didn't matter -- it was none of those things, he said, and it had to be fought for.

I am lonely, yet not everybody will do. I don’t know why, some people fill the gaps and others emphasize my loneliness.

History says, Don’t hopeOn this side of the grave, But then, once in a lifetimeThe longed-for tidal waveOf justice can rise up, And hope and history rhyme

We prefer to find an explanation for why things are not perfect, and these rarely stand up to close scrutiny.

We transform the world, but we don't remember it. We adjust our baseline to the new level, and we don't recall what was there.

A man who whinnies with noisy laughter, surpasses all the animals in vulgarity.

Well, the Lord is going to get another one.

What was previously perceived as nerdy is now viewed as original. What I like about nerdiness, geekiness, is it doesn't really matter what you're into - it just means you're not a follower.

When the Muslims deliver the indictment of the American system, it is not the white man per se that is being doomed.

When the bombers are women - and children, which I predict we'll see more of - the terrorists get more bang for their buck, because there's more media attention.

An author knows his landscape best; he can stand around, smell the wind, get a feel for his place.