but isn't there always one good thing to look back on? think of how many cups of coffee we drank together.

take a writer away from his typewriter and all you have left is the sickness which started him typing in the beginning

‎"she’ mad but she’ magic. there’ no lie in her fire.

in this room the hours of love still make shadows.

For each Joan of Arc there is a Hitler perched at the other end of the teeter-totter.

American women drove hard bargains and the ended up looking the worst for it. The few natural American women left were mostly in Texas and Louisiana.

Long ago, among other lies they were taught that silence was bravery.