I just wanted to write something about running, but I realized that to write about my running is to write about my writing. It's a parallel thing in me.

Those five fingers and that palm were like a display case crammed full of everything I wanted to know--and everything I had to know. By taking my hand, she showed me what these things were. That within the real world, a place like this existed. In the space of those ten seconds I became I tiny bird, fluttering in the air, the wind rushing by. From high in the sky I could see a scene far away. It was so far off I couldn't make it out clearly, yet something was there, and I knew that someday I would travel to that place.

Judging the mistakes of strangers is an easy thing to do - and it feels pretty good.

But if you peeled away the ornamental egos that she had built, there was only an abyss of nothingness and the intense thirst that came with it.

When someone is trying very hard to get something, they don't. And when they're running away from something as hard as they can, it usually catches up with them.

There are lots of things we never understand, no matter how many years we put on, no matter how much experience we accumulate.

It is not that the meaning cannot be explained. But there are certain meanings that are lost forever the moment they are explained in words.