...appetite turns common food into the fare of kings.
A personal offense is like a scratch on a phonograph record. I couldn't move my thoughts beyond my pain. It kept repeating, as if I were stuck within its grooves. There was only one way to play beyond it. I had to forgive them, so my heart could take its form again.
When lost, I look for gas stations for counsel.
The way of surviving is to find meaning in suffering.
Life and death in a relationship depend on attitudes.
Plans can be like a winged horse, but their execution plods along pulling carts.
I wonder if we climb to heaven over the ruins of many cherished schemes.
It isn't fair that there's pressure exerted on those who choose to live on the edges of the bell-shaped curve of normal.
Marriage is the learning of someone else's habits.
(Home) is you in things.
Charm is the enchanted dart, light and subtle as a hummingbird. But it is deceptive in one thing: like a sense of humor, if you think you've got it, you probably haven't.
Books have always been to me like a kind of embalmed mind. The dead may be scattered, and who can find them, but their voices live in the library.
I want the privilege of guiding the arrows of my children and giving them the exhortations that can shoot them into the high place.
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