I do think ordinariness is, in a way, the enemy, but not ordinariness as the opposite of flamboyance.

The sky slowly pulled up its blue dress to reveal night.

My test for writing is always, is this fun or does it feel like a job? Is it moving me? Or am I just fulfilling my own expectations - or even worse, somebody else's?

I'm sorry for my inability to let unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.

Was his death an essential stage in the continuation of his life?

The more exposure people have to the realities of factory farming, the more we will see people rejecting it. It's already happening.

What do babies dream of? She must be dreaming of the before-life, just as I dream of the afterlife.