She was not brokenhearted because the relationship had ended suddenly; she was brokenhearted because it had never truly ended.

There was something horribly depressing, she felt, about watching the weather report. That life could be planned like the perfect summer picnic drained it of spontaneity.

The map was just an accessory. She knew exactly where she was.

If anything was, that the world will always--it can only--disappoint.

And she had been in love enough times to rule out the possibility that this was merely some feat of nostalgia.

Time passed at an accelerated pace. They could be sitting in traffic or talking on the phone or waiting in line for a movie, and their time felt precious, important, worthwhile.

Was it possible there was some fatal flaw in their matching, that they were ultimately, impossibly different--dissimilar enough to fall in love, but too fundamentally distinct to stay together?

That's why it's called a practice. We have to practice a practice if it is to be of value.

Needs cause motivation. Deep-rooted desires for esteem, affection, belonging, achievement, self-actualization, power, and control motivate us to push for what we want and need in our lives.

My father might not have held my hand or expressed his love openly, but he taught Callie and me that we had inherent values, that we were fully formed human beings without a boy by our side.

The hero was the sort of character you could feel yourself falling in love with, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he wasn't real

Nothing you do for children is ever wasted. They seem not to notice us, hovering, averting our eyes, and they seldom offer thanks, but what we do for them is never wasted.

The place of cycling in our society is set to grow, and I am committed to doing everything possible to encourage that.

An evangelizer must never look like someone who has just come back from a funeral.

Which Seat Should I Take?

You can't say that religion or irreligion will give us a particular answer to the nuclear dilemma.

The greatest risk is the risk of riskless living.