Those of us with water in our personalities don't pick where we'll flow to. All we can do is flow where the landscape of our lives carries us

He was like a song I'd heard once in fragments but had been singing in my mind ever since.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

I stumbled out into the courtyard to try to flee my misery, but of course we can never flee the misery that is within us.

We don't become geisha because we want our lives to be happy; we become geisha because we have no choice.

If those sorts of moments would be the only pleasure life offered me, I'd be better off shutting out that one brilliant source of light to let my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness.

Here again, I saw life in all its noisy excitement passing me by.