...It really IS easier to experience spiritual connection when your life is in the process of coming apart.

You can get the monkey off your back, but the circus never leaves town

Jealousy has always been my cross, the weakness and woundedness in me that has most often caused me to feel ugly and unlovable, like the Bad Seed.

It is hard to remember that you are a cherished spiritual being when you're burping up apple fritters and Cheetos.

Lies cannot nourish or protect you. Only freedom from fear, freedom from lies, can make us beautiful, and keep us safe.

[Jesus is] saying that we could be aware of, filled with, and saved by the presence of holy beauty, rather than worship golden calves.

God can't clean the house of you when you're still in it.

My theory is that, as with our children, as with every surface of that geodesic dome inside the 8-Ball, every age we've ever been is who we are.

...I learned that God was an equal opportunity employer—that it was possible to experience the divine anywhere you were, anywhere you could see the sun and moon rise or set, or burn through the fog.

When she listened to songs that she loved on the radio, something stirred inside her. A liquid ache spread under her skin, and she walked out of the world like a witch.

The creative strength is good enough and deep enough to bring itself to flower and to grow in spite of this sickness.

Did you tell people that songs weren’t the same as a warm body, a soft mouth?

You should be so lucky to be like me. I allow myself to be disturbed too often. I'll probably end up talking to birds in a park. But you'll probably end up with regrets.

Her grief grieved her. His devastated her.

I am optimistic. But I also know that, with time, I'm beginning to fight issues of aging as well as long-term paralysis.

You get interviewed when you're out promoting something.

Hush! my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy angels guard thy bed! Heavenly blessing without number Gently falling on thy head.

It is the loving, not the loved, woman who feels loveable.

in the caves of my heart, where pain taps out its rhythms and sorrow sets its loss, i am without direction.