As far as I was concerned men were something you had around the place, not particularly interesting, but quite harmless. I had never shown the slightest feeling for them, and apart from my never wearing a skirt, saw nothing else in common between us.

Art saved me; it got me through my depression and self-loathing, back to a place of innocence.

I feel in colour, strong tones that I hue down for the comfort of the pastelly inclined. Beige and magnolia and a hint of pink are what the well-decorated heart is wearing; who wants my blood red and vein-blue?

I am good at walking away. Rejection teaches you how to reject.

Love's lengthways splits the heart in two - the heart where you are, the heart where you want to be.

It is just as likely that as I invent what I want to say, you will invent what you want to hear.

…only a poet could frame a language that could frame a world.