…'It always has to end, doesn't it? We always have to separate.' 'Yes,' I said. He was insistent, 'But it doesn't always have to be that way. We could be together some day for always.' 'Oh, no,' I told him, wondering if he knew it was all over. 'We keep running till we die. We separate, get further apart, till we are dead.

The silence drew off, baring the pebbles and shells and all the tatty wreckage of my life.

I like people too much or not at all.

I keep wanting to crawl back into the womb.

How frail the human heart must be - a mirrored pool of thought.

When they asked me what I wanted to be I said I didn’t know. "Oh, sure you know," the photographer said. "She wants," said Jay Cee wittily, "to be everything.

Once one has seen God, what is the remedy?