Money talks, but tell me why all it says is just Goodbye.

I'm an Irish Catholic and I have a long iceberg of guilt.

I knew I had done something awful. I had killed love, before I even knew the enormity of what love meant.

It was the first time that I came face to face with madness and feared it and was fascinated by it.

In every question and every remark tossed back and forth between lovers who have not played out the last fugue, there is one question and it is this: Is there someone new?

Kindness. The most unkind thing of all.

I'm a tuning fork, tense and twanging all the time.