I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

In short, everything about his life was different for him at the bottom of that well.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

I am a cigarette with a body attached to it

Art doesn't have to do anything. It just has to be there for the fierce pleasure we take in doing it.

I dressed and went for a walk - determined not to return until I took in what Nature had to offer.