Maybe I'm dreaming you. Maybe you're dreaming me; maybe we only exist in each other's dreams and every morning when we wake up we forget all about each other.

Love the world and yourself in it, move through it as though it offers no resistance, as though the world is your natural element.

There's always world enough and time.

The pain has left but I know that it has not gone far, that it is sulking somewhere in a corner or under the bed and it will jump out when I least expect it.

I think about my mother singing after lunch on a Summer afternoon, twirling in blue dress across the floor of her dressing room

Everything seems simple until you think about it.

We laugh and laugh, and nothing can ever be sad, no one can be lost, or dead, or far away: right now we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.