I want what everybody wants, that's how I know I'm still breathing.

Love, I think, is a gateway to the world, not an escape from it.

Even sad stories are company. And perhaps that's why you might read such a chronicle, to look into a companionable darkness that isn't yours.

No such thing, the queen said, as too many sequins.

We long to connect; we fear that if we do, our freedom and individuality will disappear.

One ambition of poetry, certainly, is to create a reverberant silence in its wake, one that means more or differently than the silence that preceded the poem.

The World Will Break Your Heart. Grief might be, in some ways, the long aftermath of love, the internal work of knowing, holding, more fully valuing what we have lost.

What did you think, that joy / was some slight thing?

There are those fortunate hours when the world consents to be made into a poem.

We love disasters that have nothing to do with us

Because the golden egg gleamed in my basket once, though my childhood became an immense sheet of darkening water I was Noah, and I was his ark, and there were two of every animal inside me

In the end, we always regret the life we failed to live.

Most of our waking life is make believe. If there was a way to record every dream that crosses our minds, the true nature of humans would be laid bare

Home development is about wishful thinking. It's about capturing a dream.

Ive been fortunate to be short my entire life. Theres only one position Ive ever had to play, and thats point guard. So Ive always had to be that leader. And that was my job: you know, to talk.

Envy hurt exponentially more than heartbreak because your soul was torn in two, half soaring with happiness for another person, half mired in a well of selfpity and pain.

I slithered out of the sinkhole on my stomach. It was not the sexiest move I'd ever performed, but I was impressed nonetheless.

I want to live with autonomy. That's the essence of sin.

Reality is only possible if you are in the realm of joy.

Genre is a bookstore problem, not a literary problem.

Women tell us that they do feel patronized. They do feel like they don't have the time and the space to have their questions answered.