I seldom shout. In fact, since breaking my neck in 1975, and losing over half of my normal lung capacity, I can’t shout “Come in!” loudly enough for the pizza delivery guy to hear me fifteen feet away through my apartment door. It’s just a scientific fact. And yet, nearly everyone who has had a passionate conversation with me has said to me, at one time or another: “Stop shouting.”

Yesterday as we sipped our morning coffee in bed, Ellie and I were discussing one of our morning book