That morning she pours Teacher's over my belly and licks it off. That afternoon she tries to jump out the window.

there isn't enough of anything as long as we live. But at intervals a sweetness appears and, given a chance prevails.

Life and death matters, yes. And the question of how to behave in this world, how to go in the face of everything. Time is short and the water is rising.

That's all we have, finally, the words, and they had better be the right ones.

Write about what you know, and what do you know better than your own secrets?

And what did you want? To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth.

I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.

It ought to make us feel ashamed when we talk like we know what we're talking about when we talk about love.

The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.

Dreams, you know, are what you wake up from.

But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.

The best road I want to walk on is the road surrounded by peace.

I know I can't own a hilltop, a meadow, or a mountainside. But keeping it a secret somehow makes it mine.

You have to realize that modern power, is nothing but a concept in the mind of the one who’s under the power. And once you realize this, you realize that authority is indeed an illusion.

Bed is the poor man's opera.

To think you know what is best for another person is an industrial-strength ego trip.

Enjoy every single day you get to lead because it will be over in a blink.

Little countries do not have this luxury of defending themselves. We have to do it before the fact, not after the fact

The problem with incompetence is its inability to recognize itself.

Politics are not a science based on logic; they are the capacity of always choosing at each instant, in constantly changing situations, the least harmful, the most useful.

I kind of like the wind in my face. If it wasn’t there, I don’t know if I would push as hard.