I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.

If sinners where so unhappy, why would they prefer their suffering? But now I knew why. Without my wounds, who was I?

If evil means to be self-motivated, to be the center of one’s own universe, to live on one’s own terms, then every artist, every thinker, every original mind, is evil.

It was only natural to want to destroy something you could never have.

Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.

What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?

I wandered through the stacks, running my hands along the spines of the books on the shelves, they reminded me of cultured or opinionated guests at a wonderful party, whispering to each other.