The world is a story we tell ourselves about the world.

Ask him why there are hypocrites in the world.'
'Because it is hard to bear the happiness of others.'
'When are we happy?'
'When we desire nothing and realize that possession is only momentary, and so are forever playing.'
'What is regret?'
'To realize that one has spent one's life worrying about the future.'
'What is sorrow?'
'To long for the past.'
'What is the highest pleasure?'
'To hear a good story.

What could my mother be
to yours? What kin is my father
to yours anyway? And how
did you and I meet ever?

But in love

our hearts have mingled
like red earth and pouring rain.

I wanted a good relationship with my mother, and I realized I had a choice: Either I could spend all my time angry that she didn't give me the hugs I thought I needed, or I could understand that she hugs differently. It's not a spread-open-the-arms, 'come here' hug. She hugs by sheltering me from her worries.

Our happiness is certainly mixed in with the tragedies of life. You have to find the lemonade. You have to find the silver lining in the middle of everything that happens in life.

I'm a big cook and prefer to make meals at home when I can. I'm either cooking, or we're going to a drive-through somewhere. I'm really proud of my homemade sweet potato pie. At Thanksgiving I make five of them because they go quick.