Only When You Are Lost Can Love

Everything Ends With Flowers.

Writing Is The Passageway, The Entrance, The Exit, The Dwelling Place Of The Other In Me.

We Must Learn To Speak The Language Women Speak When There Is No One There To Correct Us.

There Is No Greater Love Than The Love The Wolf Feels For The Lamb-it-doesn’t-eat.

When I Write, It's Everything That We Don't Know We Can Be That Is Written Out Of Me, Without Exclusions, Without Stipulation, And Everything We Will Be Calls Us To The Unflagging, Intoxicating, Unappeasable Search For Love. In One Another We Will Never Be Lacking.