The truth, she found, felt smooth, like a skipping stone in the palm of your hand.

Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.

Light coursed through Karou and darkness chased it-burning through her, chilling her, shimmer and shadow, ice and fire, blood and starlight, rushing, roaring, filling her.

She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well.

Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.

A man once said, 'All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure.' Mark Twain, you know. He had a fine mustache. Men of wisdom so often do.

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.

She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.

Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.

I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.

Neatness and cleanliness is not a function of how rich or poor you are but that of mentality and principle.

A person who thinks about "why" is a philosopher.

Beware of those who love to give advice, but never want to receive it!

Falling in love, finding your passion, are attempts to locate, to picture, to represent what you unconsciously feel frustrated about, and by.

Art has political consequences, which is to say, it reorganizes society and creates constituencies of people around it.

The easier your hair is to manage the happier you'll be with it and the prettier you'll feel.

…we can not love or think except in fragments of time each of which goes along its own trajectory and immediately disappears.

To sink a six-foot putt with thirty million people looking over your shoulder, convince yourself that, if you miss it, you will be embarrassed and poor.

You see that a handful of times every year where a person that hasn't been playing that well pops up and wins.

I've made mistakes, and I know why I made them, but I made that choice. Nobody's ever made a choice for me.