I stood face to face with the moon and the ocean and the future that spread out with all its bewildering immensity before me.

I've always believed that dreams were both the love letters and the hate mail of the subconscious.

Books are living things and their task lies in their vows of silence. You touch them as they quiver with a divine pleasure. You read them and they fall asleep to happy dreams for the next 10 years. If you do them the favor of understanding them, of taking in their portions of grief and wisdom, then they settle down in contented residence in your heart.

There is no teacher more discriminating or transforming than loss.

I’ve never had anyone’s approval, so I’ve learned to live without it.

Men are prisoners of their genitalia and women are the keepers of the keys to paradise.

Comely was the town by the curving river that they dismantled in a year's time. Beautiful was Colleton in her last spring as she flung azaleas like a girl throwing rice at a desperate wedding. In dazzling profusion, Colleton ripened in a gauze of sweet gardens and the town ached beneath a canopy of promissory fragrance.