Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year

by Anne Lamott

Last night at midnight it occurred to me to leave him outside for the night, and if he survived, to bring him inside in the morning. Sort of an experiment in natural selection.

I’m going to have an awards banquet for my body when all of this is over.

“My mind is a bad neighborhood that I try not to go into alone.”

I heard someone say once that forgiveness is having given up all hope of having had a better past.

It is so profoundly, comforting and beautiful, the minuet of old friendships.