“The Mozart sonata Dad picked out begins to play. When we hear the first note, we open the sacks and the ladybugs escape through the opening, taking flight. It’s as if someone has dumped rubies from heaven. Soon they will land on the plants in search of bollworm eggs. But right now they are magic-red ribbons flying over our heads, weaving against the pink sky, dancing up there with Mozart.”

“[T]he American Left, in its horror at the Vietnam War, reinvented sin.”

“The chanting went on, the musicians giving in to the rhythm of their own being, finding healing in touching that rhythm, and healing in chanting about death, the only real god they knew.”

“And in this moment, I realize one reason it’s so great to have a best friend is sometimes, like right now, Cal and I are thinking the very same thing.”