Together in our house, in the firelight, we are the world made small.

Happiness was useless to me. It was heartache that filled my purse. What happy man has need of Shakespeare?

There is only one thing I fear now-love. For I have seen it and I have felt it and I know that it is love, not death, that undoes us.

The guitar's still around me. I slip it off and put it down. I want to feel him. To feel his breath on my neck. The warmth of his skin. To feel something other than sadness. Hold me, I tell him silently. Hold me here. To this place. This life. Make me want you. Want this. Want something. Please

Stop yelling. If everyone’s yelling, no one can be heard.

Writers are damned liars. Every single one of them.

Who knew that listening to a guy sleep could be so much deeper than sleeping with a guy.