Maybe some love was guaranteed. Maybe it fit inside you and around you like skin and bones.

Perhaps it is possible to discover more in silence than in speech. Or perhaps it is only that those who are silent among us learn to listen.

Feel lucky for what you have when you have it. Isn't that the point? Happily ever after doesn't mean happy forever.

How could I tell the doctor what was wrong with me? I didn't understand it myself. I couldn't articulate the pain; it was the pain of nothingness. My fear was of the weather, the atmosphere, the very air. What good did safety tips do me now? 'Avoid water, metal objects, rooftops; stay off the telephone in a storm, don't think glass can protect you; even if a storm was 8 miles away, you're still not safe from a strike. Avoid life perhaps that was the answer. The number one safety tip, stay away from it all.

There was the blue sky above her and all those many roses, the ones that gave off the scent of cloves in the rain and the ones that left a trace of lemon on your fingers, the ones that were the color of blood, and those that were as white as clouds. Each one was sweeter than the next and as red as gemstones.

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

She liked to disappear, even when she was in the same room as other people. It was a talent, as it was a curse.