Cesky Krumlov, the little jewel box of a city in southern Bohemia.

Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.

Light coursed through Karou and darkness chased it-burning through her, chilling her, shimmer and shadow, ice and fire, blood and starlight, rushing, roaring, filling her.

She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well.

Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.

A man once said, 'All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure.' Mark Twain, you know. He had a fine mustache. Men of wisdom so often do.

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.

She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.

Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.

I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.

She had loved them all, her children. Loved each one the best, but for different reasons.

If we don’t allow ourselves to experience joy and love, we will definitely miss out on filling our reservoir with what we need when. . . . hard things happen.

Silence is exhilarating at first - as noise is - but there is a sweetness to silence outlasting exhilaration, akin to the sweetness of listening and the velvet of sleep.

I made a fortune getting out too soon.

Life is so hard, how can we be anything but kind?

Being out in nature inspires me as a writer.

Only God can provide us with an eternal perspective and speak to us with absolute and final authority.

Socialism has been a great tragedy this century.

There are no guidelines for what happens when you get successful as an artist. My heroes were artists like Acconci, and he didn't make any money. That's what I thought success was.

Institutionalized, I live my life a product made to crumble.