The central struggle of parenthood is to let our hopes for our children outweigh our fears.

We owned what we learned back there; the experience and the growth are grafted into our lives.

Today, much of journalism and politics are in a kind of collusion to oversimplify and personalize issues. No room for ambivalence. Plenty of room for the personal attack.

Civility, it is said, means obeying the unenforceable.

Age is an accumulation of life and loss. Adulthood is a series of lines crossed.

The things we hate about ourselves aren't more real than things we like about ourselves.

We want our children to fit in and to stand out. We rarely address the conflict between these goals.

instant opinion is an oxymoron. You don't get real opinions in an instant. You get reactions.

Our 'mistakes' become our crucial parts, sometimes our best parts, of the lives we have made.

Maybe this year, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives not looking for flaws, but looking for potential.

Ultimately, time is all you have and the idea isn't to save it, but to savour it.

The lid is made of stone, and it looks like there is a mechanism to open it.

Don’t wait to be hunted to hide, that was always my motto.

I have my faults, but changing my tune is not one of them.

The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.

The old endless chain of love, tolerance, indifference, aversion and disgust

I, of whom I know nothing, I know my eyes are open, because of the tears that pour from them unceasingly.

I tried to groan, Help! Help! But the tone that came out was that of polite conversation.

Against the charitable gesture there is no defence.