There is a time, when passing through a light, that you walk in your own shadow.

But hands are sacred things. Touch is personal, fingers of love, feelers of blind eyes, tongues of those who cannot talk.

It's the possibility that when you're dead you might still go on hurting that bothers me.

I am exceedingly angry for no good reason.

A family can be the bane of one's existence. A family can also be most of the meaning of one's existence. I don't know whether my family is bane or meaning, but they have surely gone away and left a large hole in my heart.

The smarter you are, the more you know, the less reason you have to trust or love or confide.

You want to know about anybody? See what books they read, and how they've been read.