Once you get below the floor of our personal identities, we're all connected. Perhaps that's why we can move into others' lives.

We parked in back and walked down the stairs with their polished brass railings, past the old-fashioned kitchen. We could see the chefs cooking. It smelled like stew, or meat loaf, the way time should smell, solid and nourishing.

She should think about her own soul, what she was going to do with this funky tattered pond dank item. Dark and stained, a ruined thing.

My house is modern, but I like my writing room to be old fashioned. I write on a little wooden secretary desk.

...You know the mistrust of heights is the mistrust of self, you don't know whether you're going to jump.

The best you'll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.

We recived our colouring from the Norsemen,hairy savages who hacked their gods to pieces and hung the flesh from trees.We are the ones who sacked Rome.Fear only feeble old age and death in bed.Don't forget who you are.