Please learn the pragmatics of expressing fear: sometimes words that seem to express really invoke. This can be tricky.

There are secrets within secrets, though--always.

We're all lonely for something we don't know we're lonely for. How else to explain the curious feeling that goes around feeling like missing somebody we've never even met?

She had a brainy girls discomfort about her own beauty and its effects on folks.

I had, by thirteen, developed a sort of Taoist hubris about my ability to control via non-control.

I miss everyone. I can remember being young and feeling a thing and identifying it as homesickness, and then thinking well now that’s odd, isn’t it, because I was home, all the time. What on earth are we to make of that?

...loneliness is not a function of solitude.