I guess I don't believe these things can ever be easy, although I also don't see why they have to be hard.

There is no word for the recipient of the love. There is only a word for the giver. There is the assumption that lovers come in pairs.

Deep down, you see, I long to be arcane, esoteric. I would love to confound people with their own language.

The truth feels different from other things. The closest you can come to describing it is that it feels like taking a perfect breath.

His books are kept on freestanding shelves hung at different angles on a sea-green wall. They defy gravity, as good books should.

simon: that's disgusting! me: what's disgusting? simon: you know. you put your thing in the place where he, um, defecates.

This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn’t ther