Despite all their fears, we ask very little of the ones who never loved us. We do not ask for sympathy or pain or compassion. We simply want to know why.

So tell me gentleman, tell me the time and place where it was easy to be a woman.

The possibilities. Is there any greater pain to know what could be, and yet be powerless to make it be?

It is a brave and stupid thing, a beautiful thing, to waste one's life for love.

We are each the love of someone's life.

Despite all their fears, we ask very little of the ones who never loved us. We do not ask for sympathy or pain or compassion. We simply want to know why.

How hollow to have no secrets left; you shake yourself and nothing rattles. You're boneless as an anemone.