I can't read or sleep. Without hope or youth or money I sit constantly wishing I were dead.

Looking for love is like asking for a new point of departure ... another chance in life.

I remember every single spot of light that ever gouged a shadow beside your bones.

We grew up founding our dreams on the infinite promise of American advertising. I still believe that one can learn to play the piano by mail and that mud will give you a perfect complexion.

Love is bitter and all there is, and that the rest is for the emotional beggars of the earth.

She felt the essence of herself pulled finer and smaller like those streams of spun glass that pull and stretch till there remains but a glimmering illusion. Neither falling nor breaking, the stream spins finer. She felt herself very small and ecstatic. Alabama was in love.

isn't it funny how danger makes people passionate?