Nothing worth knowing can ever be taught in a classroom.

But at the end of the day, you can't major in Making Stuff, so it was Art by default.

After age twenty-five, you're not a victim anymore — you're a volunteer.

Did they want what I wanted?
Did they want to understand, to unlock it? To decode it? To glean, to touch, to learn, to get something, to proceed, to get somewhere, to graduate, to work, to thrive; to someday, sometime, finally earn the luxury, the permission to … stop, to stop all of this, to relax, and forget?

Never let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash.

My hope is that when people first see the cover, they won't understand what they are seeing. Then, only as they read the book or the flap copy will that image change from dishes with dust on them to something else.