If every life is a river, then it's little wonder that we do not even notice the changes that occur until we are far out in the darkest sea. One day you look around and nothing is familiar, not even your own face. My name once meant daughter, grandaughter, friend, sister, beloved. Now those words mean only what their letters spell out; Star in the night sky. Truth in the darkness. I have crossed over to a place where I never thought I'd be. I am someone I would have never imagined. A secret. A dream. I am this, body and soul. Burn me. Drown me. Tell me lies. I will still be who I am.

My grief was cold. It was nothing to share. It was nothing to speak about, nothing to feel.

Every problem has a solution, although it may not be the outcome that was originally hoped for or expected.

I read "The Group" by Mary McCarthy. It had tons of sex in it, or so I thought at the time.

Sometimes words drew blood, they cut your tongue, they made you know things you couldn't unknow.

You can try to take sorrow and make it into something enduring, meaningful and beautiful. I always feel guilty that this is my job, that I get to do this

In a world of sorrow, love was an act of will. All you needed were the right ingredients.