There is a difference between the truth and what we wish were true.

She was a wicked thing sometimes. All full of want. As if the shape of the world depended on her mood. As if she were important.

But no. There is a difference between the truth and what we wish were true.

It exhasperated her, but she knew better than to force the world to her desire.

She knew the true shape of the world. All else was shadow and the sound of distant drums.

I cannot help but wonder how many of us walk through our lives, day after day, feeling slightly broken and alone, surrounded all the time by others who feel exactly the same way.

Answers were always important, but they were seldom easy.

Some days simply lay on you like stones.

The gesture was so tight with rage she feared she’d snap and crack the world in two.

I love her more than just a little. I think it's because we're both somewhat broken, in our own odd ways. More importantly, we're both aware of it.

But for half a minute she wished it was a different sort of day, even though she knew that nothing good could come from wanting at the world.

Live with God, have faith in God – it is true happiness

What you say reflects how you feel about the world.

What about the nobodies and the nothings, the invisible girls? We learn to hold our heads as if we wear crowns. We learn to wring magic from the ordinary.

Some say the ocean roars, I hear it ever weeping.Weep, ocean, weep for those gone before.Weep, O sea, for the open graves that fill your shore.

And to my lips' Bright crimson rim The passion slips, And down my slim White body drips The shining hymn.

Symptoms are the body's mother tongue; signs are in a foreign language.

Over the course of my career, which is about 40 years, I've visited plenty of prisons and I know what they're like.

It is not labor that kills, but the small attritions of daily routine that wear us down.

My favorite part of theatre is that I get paid for it!

I was sponsored when I was about seven by Burton Snowboards.