I am a writer who happens to love women. I am not a lesbian who happens to write.
Perhaps all romance is like that; not a contract between equal parties but an explosion of dreams and desires that can find no outlet in everyday life. Only a drama will do and while the fireworks last the sky is a different colour.
If people aren’t educated, they can’t question. If they can’t question, they can’t change anything, which is great for the status quo and all the people who can question them at their own level.
But not all dark places need light, I have to remember that.
The people who decided in their wisdom that we’re all going to go over to ebooks, they are not readers. These are technical people. These are people who think that somehow this is progress. It isn’t. It’s regressive.
I spin worlds where we could be together. I dream you. For me, imagination and desire are very close.
I like being on my own better than I like anything else, but I can’t give up love. Maybe it’s the tension between longing and aloneness that I need. My own funicular railway, holding in balance the two things most likely to destroy me.
The body shuts down when it has too much to bear; goes its own way quietly inside, waiting for a better time, leaving you numb and half alive.
Book collecting is an obsession, an occupation, a disease, an addiction, a fascination, an absurdity, a fate. It is not a hobby. Those who do it must do it.
I want someone who is fierce and will love me until death and knows that love is as strong as death, and be on my side forever and ever. I want someone who will destroy and be destroyed by me.
In the library I felt better, words you could trust and look at till you understood them, they couldn’t change half way through a sentence like people, so it was easier to spot a lie.
I will do whatever I have to do to reach people with the things I believe are important. Life is too short not to do everything you can.
Not much touches us, but we long to be touched. We lie awake at night willing the darkness to part and show us a vision.
It is just as likely that as I invent what I want to say, you will invent what you want to hear.
When I say ‘I will be true to you’ I am drawing a quiet space beyond the reach of other desires.
Happy ending are only a pause. There are three kinds of big endings: Revenge. Tragedy. Forgiveness. Revenge and Tragedy often happen together. Forgiveness redeems the past. Forgiveness unblocks the future.
It may be that you are settled in another place it may be that you are happy but the one who took your heart wields final power.
When we learn to read, it’s a real product of civilization and a civilized society. It affects your brain. It affects the way you think, and it gives you that capacity for self-reflection that you simply do not have without the agency of books.
The body can endure compromise and the mind can be seduced by it. Only the heart protests. The heart. Carbon-based primitive in a silicon world.
You play, you win, you play, you lose. You play. It’s the playing that’s irresistible. Dicing from one year to the next with the things you love, what you risk reveals what you value.