Eventually, everything gets stuck between a pair of parentheses or buried in the bottom of a trunk.

Why should men be allowed to strut under the privilege of their life adventures, wearing them like a breast full of medals, while women went all gray and silent beneath the weight of theirs?

It occurs to her that she should record this flash of insight in her journal - otherwise she is sure to forget, for she is someone who is always learning and forgetting and obliged to learn again.

Words are our life. We are human because we use language. So I think we are less human when we use less language.

Here's to another year and let's hope it's above ground.

The silence is perfect, and yet a torment.

Open a book this minute and start reading. Don’t move until you’ve reached page fifty. Until you’ve buried your thoughts in print. Cover yourself with words. Wash yourself away. Dissolve.