I lived like a man who wanted to die but who had no courage to do it himself.

The truth is, laughter always sounds more perfect than weeping. Laughter flows in a violent riff and is effortlessly melodic. Weeping is often fought, choked, half strangled, or surrendered to with humiliation.

Your quest is for darkness only. This sea is not your sea. The myths of men are not your myths. Men's treasures are not yours.

If you want to be a writer, write. Write and write and write. If you stop, start again. Save everything that you write. If you feel blocked, write through it until you feel your creative juices flowing again. Write. Writing is what makes a writer, nothing more and nothing less.

You are alone when something like this happens. Doesn't matter how many people love you and want to help you. You are alone. When Marchent died, she was alone.

We breathe the light, we breathe the music, we breathe the moment as it passes through us.

For always in her there was a dark place full of despair and a great dividing force to make meaning because there was none.