We are never so poor that we cannot bless another human being, are we? So it is that every evil, whether moral or material, results in good. You'll see.

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness.

When women age into their power, no wind can upset them, no hand turn aside their knowledge, no fact can deflect their point of view.

What is this life but the sound of an appalling love.

I think one of the reasons to be here on earth is to finally be who we are, at all times - to know and be predictable to ourselves.

People forget the good, because the bad has more punch.

...which causes me to wonder, my own purpose on so many days as humble as the spider's, what is beautiful that I make? What is elegant? What feeds the world?