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I am not in my gallery and neither do I hold your sigil. Will you speak to me?

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I will write in words of fire.I will write them on your skin.I will write about desire.Write beginnings, write of sin.You’re the book I love the best,...more

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I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through the dreams; and the dreamer ...more

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Shadow crawled across the floor to the yellow foam-rubber pad and climbed onto it, pulling the thin blanket over himself, and closed his eyes, and he ...more

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For love is no part of the dreamworld. Love belongs to Desire, and Desire is always cruel.

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Is there a word for forgetting the name of someone when you want to introduce them to someone else at the same time you realize you've forgotten the n...more

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I walk across the dreaming sands under the pale moon: through the dreams of countries and cities, past dreams of places long gone and times beyond rec...more

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You lived what anybody gets, Bernie. You got a lifetime. No more. No less.

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We wrapped our dreams in words and patterned the words so that they would live forever, unforgettable.

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For some folks death is release, and for others death is an abomination, a terrible thing. But in the end, I'm there for all of them.

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Never trust the storyteller. Only trust the story.

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I must confess, I have always wondered what lay beyond life, my dear.Yeah, everybody wonders. And sooner or later everybody gets to find out.

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Dreams are composed of many things, my son. Of images and hopes, of fears and memories. Memories of the past, and memories of the future...

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Recounting the strange is like telling one's dreams: one can communicate the events of a dream, but not the emotional content, the way that a dream ca...more

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We knew that it would soon be over, and so we put it all into a poem, to tell the universe who we were, and why we were here, and what we said and did...more