Contemplation seems to be about the only luxury that costs nothing.

I was wandering around as usual, in my unpleasantly populated sub-conscious.

Even a broken heart doesn't warrant a waste of good paper.

...With stories even a page can take me hours, but the truth seems to flow out as fast as I can get it down.

I could hear rain still pouring from the gutters and a thin branch scraping against one of the windows; but the church seemed completely cut off from the restless day outside--just as I felt cut off from the church. I thought: I am a restlessness inside a stillness inside a restlessness.

I believe it is customary to get one's washing over first in baths and bask afterwards; personally, I bask first. I have discovered that the first few minutes are the best and not to be wasted-- my brain always seethes with ideas and life suddenly looks much better than did.

Oh, comfortable cocoa!