My sorrow is I used to read all the time and now, as a writer, I don't have the time to read.

You build your world around someone, and then what happens when he disappears? Where do you go-into pieces, into atoms, into the arms of another man? You go shopping, you cook dinner, you work odd hours, you make love to someone else on June nights. But you're not really there.

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.

I'm at the point where going forward is easier than going back.

It wasn't right to have someone charge into you your world without even asking, acting as if you were nothing more than an egg to be flipped and flopped, sunny-side up or scrambled, depending on the whims on whoever ran your life..._

Still anyone who trusts a serpent deserves its bite. The wise see a creature for what it is, not what it says it may be.

How could I have been so stupid to ignore everything I’d had in my life? The color red alone was worth kingdoms.