It is winter, and very cold. There are icicles against the glass, and frost. I am tracing a pattern, before it melts. Before it fades, and is lost for good, like memories

Whose ideas breathe through me? Am I a thief? Do I dream my own dreams?

The sea is rushing in now as unconsciousness does.I can see a chord, hear gospel songs as we hoist the sails.The sails are a soft white bird. We are airborne. We are primitive.

I want to sling a stone, a small rock into a pool, see it ripple. I want to shake a tree, create a small storm..

I was an unwilling passenger leaving the Big Country. I would miss the mountains and the waterfalls, the treks on broad horses' backs to hidden villages in secret valleys.

Our eyes met. I kissed her soft face, and down the stairs they descended. Their voices blended into an echo, a murmur. I ventured barefoot into the bedroom. The dark gown lay crumpled upon the bed

There were women who navigated in canoes, holding their children, the beguiling wind blowing soft sleet kisses, raining upon their skins

She hands me an ornament of The Virgin Mary. "Pray to the Holy Mary, Mother of God!" I notice she has a gold chain round her neck. It has the holy cross and a shamrock

I was climbing high, high up Pen Dinas Head among the sparkling yellow gorse, sea birds and white heather, with the oily sheep huddled together against the wind

I can see the caravanserai, like a mirage in the distance. The heat hums. I thought I saw water. What would you have on these trade winds for your comfort?

I believe that a scientist looking at nonscientific problems is just as dumb as the next guy.

In this complex modern world, it is impossible to be simple.

It is said a virtuous woman is worth more than rubies. But I believe many men discover the hard way that virtue, like beauty, is often in the eye of the beholder.

You can measure a programmer's perspective by noting his attitude on the continuing vitality of FORTRAN.

I've always seen my drumming as lyrical anyway.

I'm only doing whatever the next role calls for.

I'm great at a deathbed. I've never given tranquillisers or psychiatric medicine. I've given love and fun and creativity and passion and hope, and these things ease suffering.

We need the courage to start and continue what we should do, and courage to stop what we shouldn't do.

The struggle for the aim of the liberation of women is the child of fire born on the lap of our liberation movement.

How can you, of all people, say everything will be alright?" He has a point. I consider my answer. "Well, it's better than saying 'Keep on crying, I'm sure things will just get worse,' right?