The only book that is worth writing is the one we don’t have the courage or strength to write. The book that hurts us (we who are writing), that makes us tremble, redden, bleed

Only when you are lost can love find itself in you without losing its way.

Everything ends with flowers.

We must kill the false woman who is preventing the live one from breathing.

I am sick of death and worst of all this sickness feeds on itself, the more afraid I am the more I am afraid the more I flee the more I am afraid the more I am haunted.

There is no greater love than the love the wolf feels for the lamb-it-doesn’t-eat.

When I write, it's everything that we don't know we can be that is written out of me, without exclusions, without stipulation, and everything we will be calls us to the unflagging, intoxicating, unappeasable search for love. In one another we will never be lacking.