The windows, the starving windows that drive the trees like nails into my heart.

Oh, darling, let your body in, let it tie you in, in comfort.

Yes I try to kill myself in small amounts, an innocuous occupation. Actually I'm hung up on it.

Women tell time by the body. They are like clocks. They are always fastened to the earth, listening for its small animal noises.

Depression is boring, I think and I would do better to make some soup and light up the cave.

Look to your heart that flutters in and out like a moth. God is not indifferent to your need. You have a thousand prayers but God has one.

She is so naked and singular. She is the sum of yourself and your dream. Climb her like a monument, step after step. She is solid.