With faith, all things are possible.
Why is it the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? 'I love you' is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it an...
Why doesn't she want me? The sun is rising now, but it is 93,000,000 miles away and I can't get warm... She won't be cold. She has the sun inside her.
Where did love begin? What human being looked at another and saw in their face the forests and the sea? Was there a day, exhausted and weary, dragging home food, arms cut and scarred, that you saw yel...
When we tell a story we exercise control, but in such a way as to leave a gap, an opening. It is a version, but never the final one.When we write we offer the silence as much as the story. Words are t...
When the children of Israel left Egypt, they were guided by the pillar of cloud by day, and the pillar of fire by night. For them, this did not seem to be a problem. For me, it was an enormous problem...
When she bleeds the smells I know change colour. There is iron in her soul on those days. She smells like a gun.
When my mother heard about this, she was furious, and she crossed Nellie off her prayer list. My dad put her on his instead, so she didn't miss out.
When I touch her, my fingers don’t question what she is. My body knows who she is. The strange thing about strangers is that they are unknown and known. There is a pattern to her, a shape I understand...
When I say 'I will be true to you' I am drawing a quiet space beyond the reach of other desires.
Whatever is on the outside can be taken away at any time. Only what is inside you is safe.
What you risk reveals what you value,
What we notice in stories is the nearness of the wound to the gift.
What sex are you?Doesn’t matter does it? After all that’s your problem.If I keep you, what will happen?You’ll have a difficult, different time.Is it worth it?That’s up to you.
What is more humiliating than finding the object of your love unworthy?
What is it that you contain?The Dead. Time. Light patterns of millennia. The expanding universe opening in your gut. Are your twenty-three feet of intestines loaded with stars?
What constitutes a problem is not the thing, or the environment where we find the thing, but the conjunction of the two; something unexpected in a usual place (our favorite aunt in our favorite poker...
What a strange world this is when you can have as much sex as you like but love is taboo.
We're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. Being important, being nothing, being caught in lives of our own making that we...
We're a lukewarm people for all our feast days and hard work. Not much touches us, but we long to be touched. We lie awake at night willing the darkness to part and show us a vision. Our children frig...