childhood was not a time in a person's life, but a country, a country under siege, from which certain individuals were taken too soon and never allowed to return. All people were exiled eventually, but whatever happened to them there marked them all their days.

We make ourselves up as we go.

Touch is the landscape / of what is possible.

The preparation for the ritual is the ritual.

childhood was not a time in a person's life, but a country, a country under siege, from which certain individuals were taken too soon and never allowed to return. All people were exiled eventually, but whatever happened to them there marked them all their days.

If you want to write, you have to be willing to be disturbed.

Logic taken to an extreme would always equal chaos.