“When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder. Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much.”

I imagine a line, a white line, painted on the sand and on the ocean, from me to you.

Every factory-farmed animal is, as a practice, treated in ways that would be illegal if it were a dog or a cat.

I never confused what I had with what I was.

Not responding is a response – we are equally responsible for what we don’t do.

The world is a big place,” he said, “but so is the inside of an apartment!

I was more alone than if I had been alone.

This is love, she thought, isn’t it? When you notice someone’s absence and hate that absence more than anything? More, even, than you love his presence?

I could not believe in a God that would challenge faith like this.

I dreamt four nights ago of clock hands descending from the universe like rain, of the moon as a green eye, of mirrors and insects, of a love that never withdrew. It was not the feeling of completeness that I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.

I’d rather somebody hate what I do than be indifferent to it.

Also, I designed a pretty fascinating bracelet, where you put a rubber band around your favorite book of poems for a year, and then you take it off and wear it.

I felt shame for living in a nation of unprecedented prosperity-a nation that spends a smaller percentage of income on food than any other civilization has in human history-but in the name of affordability treats the animals it eats with cruelty so extreme it would be illegal if inflicted on a dog.

I put my hand on the doorknob because I thought maybe her hand was on the doorknob on the other side.

Every night before putting her to sleep, Yankel counts her ribs, as if one might have disappeared in the course of the day and become the seed and soil for some new companion to steal her away from him.

I woke up once in the middle of the night, and Buckminster’s paws were on my eyelids. He must have been feeling my nightmares.

I felt suddenly shy. I was not used to shy. I was used to shame. Shyness is when you turn your head away from something you want. Shame is when you turn your head away from something you do not want.

What we feel most comfortable doing is playing loud, screaming rock songs.

Actions speak louder than words, and a smile says, ‘I like you. You make me happy. I am glad to see you.

The ultimate test of faith is not how loudly you praise God in happy times but how deeply you trust him in dark times.

I had a real stage school voice and I could do loud things, but it’s not about being loud, it’s about sensitivity and subtlety in music. You can do so much more with a quiet voice than with a belter.

We may say we value this thing or that thing more than any other, but the volume of our actions speaks louder than our words.

It is a general popular error to suppose the loudest complainers for the public to be the most anxious for its welfare.

Let your inner queen’s voice come through loud and clear. Be strong, be authentic, be you, and you’ll do her proud.

They say that hens do cackle loudest when there is nothing vital in the eggs they have laid.