There's so little wonder left in the world because we've seen everything one way or another'.

I choose this story above all others because it's a story I'm struggling to end.

There are so many separate selves; no one who writes creatively hasn't felt that.

Art is enchantment and artists have the right of spells.

What kills love? Only this: Neglect. Not to see you when you stand before me. Not to think of you in the little things. Not to make the road wide for you, the table spread for you. To choose you out of habit not desire, to pass the flower seller without a thought. To leave the dishes unwashed, the bed unmade, to ignore you in the mornings, make use of you at night. To crave another while pecking your cheek. To say your name without hearing it, to assume it is mine to call.

I am a writer who happens to love women. I am not a lesbian who happens to write.

Meatspace still has some advantages for a carbon-based girl.