You've got to figure out which end of the needle you're gon' be, the one that's fastened to the thread or the end that pierces the cloth.
Sue Monk KiddGazing into the mirror, I saw myself as I was-a black silhouette in the room, a woman whose darkness had completely leaked through.
Sue Monk KiddAt night I would lie in bed and watch the show, how bees squeezed through the cracks of my bedroom wall and flew circles around the room, making that propeller sound, a high-pitched zzzzzz that hummed along my skin. I watched their wings shining like bits of chrome in the dark and felt the longing build in my chest. The way those bees flew, not even looking for a flower, just flying for the feel of the wind, split my heart down its seam.
Sue Monk Kidd