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Clare, I want to tell you, again, I love you. Our love has been the thread through the labyrinth, the net under the high-wire walker, the only real th...more

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Martin said, "It feels as though part of my self has detached and gone to Amsterdam, where it—she—is waiting for me. Do you know about phantom-limb sy...more

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Have you ever found your heart's desire and then lost it? I had seen myself, a portrait of myself as a reader. My childhood: days home sick from schoo...more

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Each spine was an encapsulated memory, each book represented hours, days of pleasure, of immersion into words.

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It’s dark now and I am very tired. I love you, always. Time is nothing.

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...all of our laments could not add a single second to her life, not one additional beat of the heart, nor a breath.

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When the woman you live with is an artist, every day is a surprise. Clare has turned the second bedroom into a wonder cabinet, full of small sculpture...more

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Why is love intensified by absence?

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I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks. I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all wint...more

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‎I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn't stand losing. But it's too late for that.

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To world enough and time.

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There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

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I want my own bed, in my own apartment. Home sweet home. No place like home. Take me home, country roads. Home is where the heart is. But my heart is ...more

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It's hard being left behind. (...) It's hard to be the one who stays.

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The space that I can call mine, that isn't full of Henry, is so small that my ideas have become small.