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

by Anne Lamott

I still secretly worry that there isn’t enough love, or money, or acclaim, and I have to do all I can to make sure I get my fair share.

I keep wanting to do what Martin Luther King taught us—to walk in love, to love the racist and hate the racism—but I must say, it is not going very well these days.

I think we’re all pretty crazy on this bus. I’m not sure I know anyone who’s got all the dots on his or her dice.

One’s heart is the only safe place to be. There’s light there, there’s company, and quiet.