Love blurs your vision; but after it recedes, you can see more clearly than ever. It's like the tide going out, revealing whatever's been thrown away and sunk: broken bottles, old gloves, rusting pop cans, nibbled fishbodies, bones. This is the kind of thing you see if you sit in the darkness with open eyes, not knowing the future.

Each form has its pluses and its minuses.

In Paradise there are no stories, because there are no journeys.

I felt white, drained of blood, cared for, purified. Peaceful.

The cemetery has ... an inscription: 'Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death I will Fear No Evil, For Thou Art With Me.' Yes, it does feel deceptively safer with two; but Thou is a slippery character. Every Thou I've known has had a way of going missing.

We still think of a powerful man as a born leader and a powerful woman as an anomaly.

If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart.