“Isn’t this the truth of any good mother? That in all of our lives.”

I am in total silence when I write.

You can’t know if you’ll be here tomorrow or a year from now.

I look at my roommates who are so proud of me that it makes me proud.

And so, when I was a young writer I always worked hard on imagery.

When people are filled to the brim with love, they are their most beautiful.

They figure out what you need and they give it to you – without you asking.

Anything you ever make that matters takes a long time.

And if a man promises to build a ladder tall enough to reach it, she believes him, hikes up her skirt, and follows him to the stars.

No matter how large a horse’s ass you are, to stay by your side until death. A fool could tell you this is a bad deal.

Relief is a wonderful emotion, highly underrated.

The Wise County Bookmobile is one of the most beautiful sights in the world to me.

And then just like real sisters, we listen and don’t judge.

On every shelf, we see ourselves, experience our collective conscious, describe our dreams and our great longing for times that have passed.

There’s nothing an artist needs more – even more than excellent tools and stamina – than a deadline.

I even love the smell of books.

For a woman, love is the highest dream.

I was just your average hockey mom, and signed up for the PTA because I wanted to make my kids’ public education better.

My dad and my mom had to sacrifice so much, and had to teach us and show us the way of going about things, how to be humble, all those things. They helped us stay on track for what we wanted to do.

My mother tried to kill me when I was a baby. She denied it. She said she thought the plastic bag would keep me fresh.

My dad told me if I was ever intimidated by anyone, just picture them with their clothes off. He said that’s how he dealt with my mom.

MOMMMM, I’m thirsty… What’s this, just water?

Mom! This is Haruhi! We’ll adopt her someday so don’t forget! ~Hikaru and Kaoru

I wanted to stay close enough so mom could see me play – where I could go home if I needed to.

When I moved out of my mom’s house at 18 I was almost as sad to leave her sewing machine behind as anything else.