So how on earth can I bring a child into the world, knowing

So how on earth can I bring a child into the world, knowing that such sorrow lies ahead, that it is such a large part of what it means to be human?

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In her book "Operating Instructions: A Journal of My Son's First Year," Anne Lamott grapples with the complexities of parenthood, questioning the wisdom of bringing a child into a world filled with inevitable sorrow. She reflects on the profound challenges and heartaches that accompany human existence, pondering the emotional weight of raising a child who will inevitably face suffering.

Lamott's thoughts highlight the tension between the joy of parenting and the...

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March 21, 2025

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I cry intermittently, like a summer rain. I don't feel racked by the crying; in fact, it hydrates me. Then rage wells up in me, and I want to take a crowbar to all the cars in the neighborhood.

I guess he'll have to figure out someday that he is supposed to have this dark side, that it is part of what it means to be human, to have the darkness just as much as the light- that in fact the dark...

So Rita and I decided that the most subversive, revolutionary thing I could do was to show up for my life and not be ashamed.

...one of the worst things about being a parent, for me, is the self-discovery, the being face to face with one's secret insanity and brokenness and rage.

I'm probably just as good a mother as the next repressed, obsessive-compulsive paranoiac.

one thing about having a baby is that each step of the way you simply cannot imagine loving him any more than you already do, because you are bursting with love, loving as much as you are humanly...

She thought about how in that moment life was perfect because it was simple. One truck, a world asleep, and a million stars. It didn't matter where they were going. She was just existing. — Tessa Shaffer Heaven Has No...

All the things you can talk about in anyone's work are the things that are least important. — Edward Gorey Ascending...

The hero surviving his own murder, his own suicide, his own addiction, surviving his own disappearance from the scene — Allen Ginsberg The Fall of...

There was a star danced, and under that was I born. — William Shakespeare Much Ado About...

Race of Cain, ascend to heaven, And cast God down upon the earth! — Charles Baudelaire The Flowers of...

... it occurred to me that perhaps in this city the crowd was essential to the individual; without it, he had nothing against which to scrape his anger, no echo for grief, and not the slightest proof that there were others more lonely than he. it was just a passing thought. — Don DeLillo Americana

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