I will turn human anatomy into roses and stars and sea. I will dissect the beloveds body in metaphor.

Dreams are stories made by and for the dreamer, and each dreamer has his own folds to open and knots to untie.

That night as I lay in bed, I thought of several things I could have said and mourned the fact that my wit usually bloomed late, peaking when it no longer mattered, during the solitary hours close to midnight.

I will turn human anatomy into roses and stars and sea. I will dissect the beloveds body in metaphor.

A book is a collaboration between the one who reads and what is read and, at its best, that coming together is a love story like any other.

Not telling is just as interesting as telling I have found. Why speech, that short verbal journey from inside to outside can be excrutiating under certain circumstances is fascinating.

It is fascinating to me that when the lists of the great writers are trotted out year after year, you often find lists without a single woman mentioned.