Heaven has fashioned a knife of irony to stab me with.

My own survival required me to counterbalance interesting with invisible.

Metaphor is awkward, but emotion, by its nature, leaves you no more scalable approach.

I was drawn to his aloofness, the way cats gravitate toward people who’d rather avoid them.

We were all monsters and bastards, and we were all beautiful.

Haven't you always been more than yourself? Haven't we all? We are none of us just one thing.

The world is seldom so simple that it hinges on us alone.

Sometimes the truth has difficulty breaching the city walls of our beliefs. A lie, dressed in the correct livery, passes through more easily.

Your lies didn't stop me loving you; your truth hasn't stopped me either.

The world inside myself is vaster and richer than this paltry plane, peopled with mere galaxies and gods.

I cannot perch among those who think that I am broken.

It's not love or anything, but I think I like you, too.

The bitterness of poor quality is remembered long after the sweetness of low price has faded from memory.

An aged Burgundy runs with a beardless Port. I cherish the fancy that Port speaks sentences of wisdom, Burgundy sings the inspired Ode.

Do you remember when we picketed the White House in 1965?

I am running for President of the United States to enable the Goddess of Peace to encircle within her arms all the children of this country and all the children of the world.

In a republic, that paradise of debility, the politician is a petty tyrant who obeys the laws.

I don't like things too overstated in the cut or too perfect.

There is more to us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps for the rest of our lives we will be unwilling to settle for less.

Swollen in head, weak in legs, sharp in tongue but empty in belly.

I'm not staring. I'm observing. . . . And what do you observe? . . . A brave young woman who has always fought for what was right, even when it was unpopular.