A Writer in Love.I was just a word weaverWhat did I know of love?Only thatSome days when the words weren’t enough, I knewI was in love.

When did you first fall in love?""I think, I first fell in lovewhen I was in fifth gradewith this boy who kept his glass ruler in the sunlight and made rainbows on my desk with it.

Choose wisely From those who start A fire in your heart. Some may burn you to shreds, While you were looking for warmth.

You tasted like fireAnd I miss that.So, at timesI drank a little.And at times, I drank too much.But I only drankTill it burned me enough.

I used to have more tolerance for these views, but I am losing patience with what I see. The test of anything is the fruit it bears. I see no good fruit being born.

One day his fingers will grow knobby, he will start to sag. I pray to the goddesses, the gods, the eggs, the clouds, the trees. I pray to the wind that he will grow old and die well.

There are three wants which can never be satisfied: that of the rich who want something more that of the sick who want something different and that of the traveler who says "Anywhere but here."

Today's worries are yesterday's fears and tomorrow's stories.

..remember that under our institutions there was no middle ground for the negro race between slavery and equal citizenship.

If God can be found through the medium of any drug, God is not worthy of being God.

Liberalism downplays certain of our moral senses: loyalty, authority, and sanctity.

Happy (if mortals can be) is the man,Who, not by priest but Reason, rules his span:Reason, to its possessor a sure guide,Reason, a thorn in Revelation's side.

Most of us get our history through story.

My parents have always been very open.