Each morning, before Jackie started her studies, she wrote on a clean piece of paper: Tarde venientibus ossa. To the latecomers are left the bones.

You eventually erase her contact info from your phone but not the pictures you took of her in bed while she was naked and asleep, never those.

You were at the age where you could fall in love with a girl over an expression, over a gesture

Privilege does not operate without silence.

I think that if you're writing about the human condition, my God, you've got to start at base: point zero, point one, is the body.

Beli at thirteen believed in love like a seventy-year-old widow who's been abandoned by family, husband, children and fortune believes in God.

If you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level any reflection of themselves