He asked, and then he waited, and his waiting had no impatience in it and no pity in it either, only a steady willingness to hear whatever came.

It is a rarer thing than you would think, to be asked a hard question by someone who actually intends to listen to the answer.

Most of the questions people ask each other are not really questions at all; they are courtesies, small verbal gestures that expect a small verbal gesture in return, the how are you that wants only a fine, thanks.

To be asked a real question, one that opens a door and then holds it, is a kind of gift, and it is a gift most of us receive only a handful of times in a life.