If death is your lover, you don't got to be afraid ever that he will ever leave you

Once upon a time . . . What time are we upon and where do I belong?

The most Beautiful people are the ones that don't look like one race or even one sex.

Nothing happened. And everything did. Your whole life you can be told something is wrong and so you believe it. Why should you question it? But then slowly seeds are planted inside of you, one by one, by a touch or a look or a day skateboarding in a park, and they start to burst out of old hulls shells and they start to sprout. And pretty soon there are so many of them. They are named Love and Trust and Kindness and Joy and Desire and Wonder and Spirit and Soulmate. They grow into a garden so dense and thick that it starts to invade your brain where the old things you were once told are dying.

She had changed him. The ice was in his eyes and in his heart, like he had predicted with that song, but now they were deep embedded there, all the pain of the world. Not pain to make you feel for somebody else but pain to make you stop feeling.

Sometimes a wild horse needs to feel that his rider is just a little bit wilder.

I'll be inside the one who holds you. And then I won't be.