In around 1971, I had a card printed up:
Sure, we’re born to suffer and die.
But before you go, try the Pâté.
It was a statement of something I couldn’t invoke, a lesson to myself.
My real feelings were on a blue felt banner of Linus Van Pelt from Peanuts on my wall in my high school bedroom: I feel the need to have the feeling that it’s good to be alive.
Anna Quindlen, well, she seems to understand the importance of Joie De Vivre.
Love is scary, and big love is big and scary.
And me? I learned the lesson of small, which is why I can write so clearly about the choice to be big.