“Most of the time, I think of myself as being invisible. Not invisible like a ghost, but like a souvenir plate from last year's vacation. At first, everyone is excited about seeing the plate, but then it's put on the bookcase and only taken down when it needs cleaning. Soon, the little plate is viewed at being more trouble than it's worth.”

“Grandpa Eli had often told me that the real truth was seldom what we thought it was. "Most of the time," he said,"people choose to believe a story because it fills their need. At other times, they're afrad not to believe it. Then right or wrong, that belief becomes their truty.”

“Henry chuckled. "I expect Helen to be Helen. It wouldn't be fair to tell her I love her and then insist she change who she is. What kind of love would that be?”

“It was not like everyone had said.Not like being needed,or needing; not desperate;it did not whisperthat I'd come to harm. I didn't losemy head. No, I was notgoing to leap from a greatheight and flapmy wings.It was in factthe opposite of flying:it contained the wishto be toppled, to be on the floor,the ground, anywhere I mightlie down. . . .On my back, and you on me.”

“The bottom line: the very best sexuality education at home and in schools is not about prevention, but about creation. Its purpose is to teach young people how to create for themselves enjoyable, caring, and responsible sexual lives. That's the key to healthy development, and also to your becoming your children's most trusted "go-to" person. When young people know that we care most about their long-term well-being --not just keeping them out of trouble-- they see us as trusted guides they can come to us time and time again.”

“If you are forced to confront your fears on a daily basis, they disintegrate, like illusions when viewed up close. Maybe being always protected made me more fearful, and I would later dip cautiously into the outside world, never allowing myself to be submerged completely, and always jerking back into the familiarity of my own life when my senses were overwhelmed. For years I would stand with a foot in each sphere, drawn to the exotic universe that lay on the other side of the portal, wrenched back by the warnings that sounded like alarm bells in my mind.”

“I can't stand THE DEPRESSED. It's like a job, it's the only thing they work hard at. Oh good my depression is very well today. Oh good today I have another mysterious symptom and I will have another one tomorrow. The DEPRESSED are full of hate and bile and when they are not having panic attacks they are writing poems. What do they want their poems to DO? Their depression is the most VITAL thing about them. Their poems are threats. ALWAYS threats. There is no sensation that is keener or more active than their pain. They give nothing back except their depression. It's just another utility. Like electricity and water and gas and democracy. They could not survive without it.”