During my childhood, I saw at least ten thousand fireflies shimmering their amber lights in the darkness and never once longed to dissect a single one to discover the source of its magic. I’m older now, my youth behind me, and fireflies continue to fill me with the joy of childhood. I refuse to dissect their magic. We all need a miracle or two or three to cling to, and I will always cling to the miracle of fireflies on a summer’s night.

We don't plant trees like we used to. A yard without trees is a yard without a future. It might as well be a cemetery.

No matter where I go, I’ll never forget home. I can feel its heartbeat a thousand miles away. Home is the place where I grew my wings.

Everything here pulses with the rare beauty of the South.

Songs. Books. Poetry. Paintings. These things reveal truth. I believe lies and truth are tangled together.