“When you love yourself, you don’t even have to think about how to be yourself –
it just happens. “
“I regretted not being kinder while we still had time. That was all. I wish I had told him he was worth the Earth and the stars and that I loved him. I wish I had reminded him of it every day and night. That’s the thing. You always forget to remind people when you think you’ll have them forever.”
“The Buddhists say if you meet somebody and your heart pounds, your hands shake, your knees go weak, that’s not the one. When you meet your ‘soulmate’ you’ll feel calm. No anxiety, no agitation.”
My books (which do not know that I exist) are as much a part of me as this visage, with its grey hair at the temples and grey eyes that look for vanity in glass surfaces and wonderingly run my curved hand over. And not without some logical bitterness it occurs to me that the essential words that most express me are not in my own writings, but in these books that don’t know who I am. Better that way. The voices of the dead will utter me forever.
Someone asked me what home was and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth and the ocean echoing inside of your ribcage.
[We] would look at each other all the way across that room without saying a single word. And we’d hear each other.
Tell the Wolves I’m Home
“And if love moves like air, then teach me how to dig my nails into the palm of my hand so I can remember what you once felt like.”