I don't dare touch her. Loss is a knowledge I'm sorry to have. Perhaps the only thing worse than experiencing it, is watching it replay anew in someone else--all the awful stages picking up like a chorus that has to be sung.

She wished it were evening now, wished for the great relief of the calendar inking itself out, of day done and night coming, of ice cubes knocking about in a glass beneath the whisky spilling in, that fine brown affirmation of need.

Outside, across the putrid moat and under the dark mute trees, I would often lie and dream for hours about what I read in the books; and would longingly picture myself amidst gay crowds in the sunny world beyond the endless forests.

If there are two clones, one good and one evil, I can’t kill on sight alone. It’s the same with love. Some love hurts, and some love elevates, but as to which one is which, they are two sides to the same sandwich.


He saw her red eyes filled with tears of anger. "Tell me why this rage?" He asked holding her in his arms. "Why do you fence for yourself so much?She sighed and muttered, "Because all I really want is nothing but to be proved wrong.

Znati kako je biti sam u mraku, u mracnoj sobi. A samo jedan mali prozorcic je tamo, tamo na onom zidu. Gde i onu jarku zutu svetlost presecaju niti metalne, koje nisu bas slabasnog karaktera.Eh. Pa nije svako te srece da okusi tugu.

I don't-" I shake my head. (...) "What? What were you going to say?" This is another trick of shrinks. They never let you stop in midthought. If you open your mouth, they want to know exactly what you had the intention of saying.

The trick. . .is to find the balance between the bright colors of humor and the serious issues of identity, self-loathing, and the possibility for intimacy and love when it seems no longer possible or, sadder yet, no longer necessary.

If you ate nails, your stomach would hurt, and it’s a good thing that it would. Eating nails is deadly, thus the pain is helpful. Like this, sadness, anger, and anxiety are not to be feared or shamed, but listened to and decoded.

Waktu itu semua sudah tidak ada yang bisa kuingat. Karena waktu itu kata-kata sudah seakan tidak berarti lagi. Yang ada di memoriku hanyalahwarna pekat. Kucari warna-waran lain , tidak pernah ada. Bahkan putih pun sudah seperti jelaga.

But when I do feel all the strength go out of me, and I fall to my knees beside the table and I think I cry, then, or at least I want to, and everything inside me screams for just one more kiss, one more word, one more glance, one more.

Not until we are faced with a crisis or sadness do we begin to remember that if we only laughed a bit more, loved a lot more, and felt the simplicity of loving ourselves-just a little more…this day would be the greatest day ever!

Sobs force their way out of my throat. I feel like I’m trapped in a disaster movie where everything is shriveling into darkness and ash. Sunflowers are being uprooted. Puppies are being trampled. Whole cities are crumbling to dust.

who journeyed to Denver, who died in Denver, who came back to Denver & waited in vain, who watched over Denver & brooded and loned in Denver and finally went away to find out the Time, & now Denver is lonesome for her heroes,

That the world I was in could be soft, lovely, and nourishing was more than I could bear, and so I stood there and wept, for I didn't want to love one more thing that could make my heart break into a million little pieces at my feet.