Your weak point is the open, vulnerable place where you can always be hurt. Love, in all its aspects, opens the self so fully.

When a woman gives birth her waters break and she pours out the child and the child runs free.

I would rather have regrets of excess than regrets of denial.

Of course, people will laugh at you, but people laugh at a great many things so there is no need to take it personally.

There is no sense in loving someone you can never wake up to except by chance.

Freud, one of the grand masters of narrative, knew that the past is not fixed in the way that linear time suggests. We can return. We can pick up what we dropped. We can mend what others broke. We can talk with the dead.

Where you are born--what you are born into, the place, the history of the place, how that history mates with your own-- stamps who you are, whatever the pundits of globalisation have to say.