In refugee camps around the world, I met people who were gone. They were still walking around but had lost so much that they were unable to claim any sort of identity. Others I met found who they truly were, and they generally found it through service to others. They became teachers when there was no school, books or pencils.

I was really bored, pretty antisocial, and not much of a joiner, and people thought that was a problem. I hated high school. In a way, it was good... I think, for a writer, it's good to be comfortable with being on the outside.

As a woman in Canada, I get to do whatever I want to do, and I'm used to that. I'm used to not having my government tell me my life is going to be restricted because I'm female.

We never know who we are going to be until we are tested, but perhaps we can test ourselves without going to the extremes of war. Perhaps we can be kinder now, live with less now, reach out to others now - and build an inner reserve of a strong identity that will hold us up even when everything else falls away.

You throw sadness, you throw depression, you throw horror at Batman, he's like, 'Yeah, yawn, I've done that.' You throw happiness at him? That's something that riles him; that's something that he's not used to.

Joy always came after pain.

The pain of parting is nothing to the joy of meeting again.

Let me tell you, when you're pregnant with the first one, it's great of course, all new and 'Yay!' With the second one it's still okay; you can pay attention to number one and she can share in the joy of the pregnancy.