One stroke of lightning does not have to lead anywhere, but to the next stroke of lightning.

She would live now, not read.

One stroke of lightning does not have to lead anywhere, but to the next stroke of lightning.

I despised their antics because I took life seriously and had a much more lofty and tender notion of romance. But I would have liked to get their attention just the same.

It's as if tendencies that seem most deeply rooted in our minds, most private and singular, have come in as spores on the prevailing wind, looking for any likely place to land, any welcome.

Sometimes our connection is frayed, it is in danger, it seems almost lost. Views and streets deny knowledge of us, the air grows thin. Wouldn't we rather have a destiny to submit to, than, something that claims us, anything, instead of such flimsy choices, arbitrary days?

In twenty years I've never had a day when I didn't have to think about someone else's needs. And this means the writing has to be fitted around it.