You know, some people fall right through the hole in their lives. Its invisible, but they come to it after time, never knowing where.

I got well by talking. Death could not get a word in edgewise, grew discouraged, and traveled on.

To sew is to pray. Men don't understand this. They see the whole but they don't see the stitches. They don't see the speech of the creator in the work of the needle. We mend. We women turn things inside out and set things right. We salvage what we can of human garments and piece the rest into blankets. Sometimes our stitches stutter and slow. Only a woman's eyes can tell. Other times, the tension in the stitches might be too tight because of tears, but only we know what emotion went into the making. Only women can hear the prayer.

When small towns find they cannot harm the strangest of their members, when eccentrics show resilience, they are eventually embraced and even cherished.

Here is the most telling fact: you wish to possess me.
 Here is another fact: I loved you and let you think you could.

The only time I see the truth is when I cross my eyes.

Our songs travel the earth. We sing to one another. Not a single note is ever lost and no song is original. They all come from the same place and go back to a time when only the stones howled.