I'll never see them again. I know that. And they know that. And knowing this, we say farewell.

A deserted library in the morning - there's something about it that really gets to me. All possible words and ideas are there, resting peacefully.

Here, too, a brand-new day is beginning. It could be a day like all the others, or it could be a day remarkable enough in many ways to remain in the memory. In either case, for now, for most people, it is a blank sheet of paper.

Start making excuses and there's no end to it. I can't live that kind of life.

I couldn't tell wether the hole that opened up inside me was from missing you or from the change of season

Her cry was the saddest sound of orgasm that I had ever heard.

I'm not trying to imply I can keep up this silent, isolated facade all the time. Sometimes the wall I've erected around me comes crumbling down. It doesn't happen very often, but sometimes, before I even realize what's going on, there I am--naked and defenseless and totally confused. At times like that I always feel an omen calling out to me, like a dark, omnipresent pool of water. ~page 10