However hard and however long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels...

Grief is love turned into an eternal missing

Surely a good therapist should produce a Dorian Gray-style portrait from under the couch so the patient can see the person they really are.

Usually time alters and affects everything, but when someone you love dies time cannot change that, no amount of time will ever change that, so time stops having any meaning.

A selfish person can still love someone else, can't they? Even when they've hurt them and let them down.

I get up and pace the room, as if I can leave my guilt behind me. But it tracks me as I walk, an ugly shadow made by myself.

Your coffin reached the monstrous hole. And a part of me went down into the muddy earth with you and lay down next to you and died with you.

The gastliness of nothing. Because I was nobody's sister now.

When I saw your strand of hair I knew that grief is love turned into an eternal missing.

But grief is the ultimate unrequited love. However hard and long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels...

Grief is the ultimate unrequited love. However hard and long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels....

Que sais je? [What do I know?]

How do you hate someone who pulled you from the brink of death, not once, but twice?

One can watch hours and hours of TV without actually losing interest, but, as with Chinese food, one is rarely left with much residue of nourishment.

...all phenomena are correlated in one absolute and necessary law, from which they can all be deduced.

I try to stay off the Internet. Just because people hurt my feelings sometimes.

God is love precisely because He relentlessly pursues the praises of His name in the hearts of His people.

Vice gets more in this vicious world than piety.

Beauty might prevail in the very short term, but in the medium and longer terms, cultural norms - primarily those values and norms influenced by family - were more important.

The mountains paralleled the valley and the snowy peaks were extending with fall to the valley floor.

New Orleans is not in the grip of a neurosis of a denied past; it passes out memories generously like a great lord; it doesn't have to pursue "the real thing."