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There was a beautiful time...

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How we need that security. How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I n...more

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The thought that I might kill myself formed in my mind coolly as a tree or a flower.

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I have stitched life into me like a rare organ

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Life was not to be sitting in hot amorphic leisure in my backyard idly writing or not writing, as the spirit moved me. It was, instead, running madly,...more

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I could feel the tears brimming and sloshing in me like water in a glass that is unsteady and too full.

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August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.

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I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to...more

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My mother said the cure for thinking too much about yourself was helping somebody who was worse off than you.

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There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in t...more

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When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn't know.

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Not easy to state the change you made.If I'm alive now, I was dead,Though, like a stone, unbothered by it.

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I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.

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I need more than anything right now what is, of course, most impossible, someone to love me, to be with me at night when I wake up in shuddering horro...more

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Writing, then, was a substitute for myself: if you don't love me, love my writing & love me for my writing. It is also much more: a way of ordering an...more