Scars are the paler pain of survival received unwillingly and displayed in the language of injury.

Come morning I found the day as I have found every other day--without relief or explanation.

We all create stories to protect ourselves.

I want something else. I'm not even sure what to call it anymore except I know it feels roomy and it's drenched in sunlight and it's weightless and I know it's not cheap. Probably not even real

Explanation is not half as strong as experience but experience is not half as strong as experience and understanding

And where there is no Echo there is no description of space or love. There is only silence.

Prometheus, thief of light, giver of light, bound by the gods, must have been a book.