Do all lovers feel helpless and valiant in the presence of the beloved? Helpless because the need to roll over like a pet dog is never far away. Valiant because you know you would slay a dragon with a pocket knife if you had to.

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

I have a theory that every time you make an important choice, the part of you left behind continues the other life you could have had.

The impulse to worship is impossible to eradicate. Even the most prosaic have to worship something.

It's hard to remember that this day will never come again. That the time is now and the place is here and that there are no second chances at a single moment.

It may be that you are settled in another place it may be that you are happy but the one who took your heart wields final power.

Writing has to have a great deal of certainty and self-assurance, but it's not arrogant.