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By Wally Lamb

'He' or 'she' is not as grave a matter with the gods as it is with us mere mortals.

My father is the most generous man in the world... but that's the problem. You pay a price by being on the receiving end of that. You give up your independence.

"God bless you, Ray," Ma said, and burst into tears. Ray loved that: being the big hero. The savior.

Bigariah

What are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears?

I am not a smart man, particularly, but one day, at long last, I stumbled from the dark woods of my own, and my family's and my country's past, holding in my hands these truths: that love grows from the rich loam of forgiveness; that mongrels make good dogs; that the evidence of god exists in the roundness of things. This much, at least, I've figured out. I know this much is true.