The only magic we have is what we make in ourselves, the muscles we build up on the inside, the sense of belief we create from nothing.

Women lose their lives not knowing they can do something different..." from Two or Three Things i Know For Sure

Delia picked at the raw sores of her conscience...Drunk or sober, Delia lived in the small town in her heart, ignoring the world in which all her love had turned to grief.

Babies change things, open doors you thought were shut, close others. Make you into something you never been.

Beauty is a hard thing. Beauty is a mean story. Beauty is slender girls who die young, fine-featured delicate creatures about whom men write poems. Beauty, my first girlfriend said to me, is that inner quality often associated with great amounts of leisure time. And I loved her for that.

Change, when it comes, cracks everything open.

Teenagers are free verse walking around on two legs.