He despised his body for its boring hungers, reflex anger; its petty, obliterating rage. But now he’d become detached. He regarded his body with a tender regret. It was the thing his spirit had to haul.
To sew is to pray. Men don’t understand this. They see the whole but they don’t see the stitches. They don’t see the speech of the creator in the work of the needle.
Each life is one short word slowly uttered.
It was just enough to sit there without words.
Hunger steals the memory.
Life is made up of three kinds of people – those who live it, those afraid to, those in between.
Here I am, where I ought to be. A writer must have a place where he or she feels this, the place to love and be irritated with.
Right and wrong were shades of meaning, not sides of a coin.
There will never come a time when I will be able to resist my emotions.
When small towns find they cannot harm the strangest of their members, when eccentrics show resilience, they are eventually embraced and even cherished.
Veils of love which was only hate petrified by longing – that was me.
We are never so poor that we cannot bless another human being, are we? So it is that every evil, whether moral or material, results in good. You’ll see.
He had a thousand-year-old stare.
I think she is confused by the way I want her, which is like nobody else. I know this deep down. I want her in a new way, a way she’s never been told about.
But if there was embellishment, it only had to do with the facts.
Now that I knew fear, I also knew it was not permanent. As powerful as it was, its grip on me would loosen. It would pass.
I tried out the unfamiliar syllables. They fit. They cracked in my ears like a fist through ice.
What is this life but the sound of an appalling love.
The universe is transformation.
Power travels in the bloodlines, handed out before birth.