Me too, I make do, I anoint what cannot be fixed.

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

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.

And I was afraid. She frightens me because she can knock me down with a word. Because she does not know that writing is walking on a dizzying silence setting one word after the other on emptiness. Writing is miraculous and terrifying like the flight of a bird who has no wings but flings itself out and only gets wings by flying.

Censor the body and you censor breath and speech at the same time. Write yourself. Your body must be heard.

Writing is the delicate, difficult, and dangerous means of succeeding in avowing the unavowable.

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