Deep down, everyone wants the truth.

Maybe the trying is the thing. Maybe it doesn't get better than that. Maybe you never quite get there. And maybe that's okay.

The truth will set you free. Unless you're guilty.

A jealous husband is an ugly thing.

What was it about not knowing a person that allowed you to wonder whether she might be the answer to all your problems?

The irrational thoughts were the ones with the power to burn holes in your gut.

The good guys had to operate on a higher level than the killers--just for society to keep track of who was who.

What about my rights? What about a person's privacy? Did all that just go to hell after 9/11?

Nothing overdone, nothing racy, which made her all the more alluring.

That was how it always was with Colleen: No matter how sad she felt, there was always this little bit of hope - like a speck of glitter caught in your eyelash - that never went away, no matter what.

Dumped doesn't even begin to describe it. If you're going to use a trash metaphor, incinerated is more like it.

You are special creation.

...if it feels like a true magic might be possible

The great pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you but he will make a fool of himself too.

You are that vast thing that you see far, far off with great telescopes.

Time mends all, ends all things earthly.

In particular, I found praying very disturbing, like swimming with bricks tied to your feet. And yet I was drawn to it constantly.

As in cooking, living requires that you taste, taste, taste as you go along.

I love showing up and giving a performance without the benefit of a lot of rehearsal or dissection. It's fun to me to act on a kind of instinctual level and go straight for the performance.