I don't think men try to make women be like them, but I think women try to make men be like them, a lot.

I cried until my eyes swelled shut, and then I slept, a black, dreamless sleep from which I awoke amazingly refreshed, at least until I remembered.

We are assumed to be rather hopeless - swallowed up by incorrect notions, divorced from the original genius with which we are born, lost within days of living this distracting life.

My mind was in my heart, anchored like a bright kite in a safe place.

My inside self and my outside self used to match. A compass needle pointed true north. Now the needle spins around and around indicating the sad direction of nowhere.

I thought of the priest who'd told me that many religions hold that it is easier to be closely connected to people we love after death than before.

There are some things you never say good-bye to