There is no shame in scars, Ismae.

I have found it is surprisingly difficult to remain sad when a cat is doing its level best to sandpaper one's cheeks.

When one consorts with assassins, one must expect to dance along the edge of a knife once or twice.

Truly, we are the gods' own children, forged in the fire of our tortured pasts, but also blessed with unimaginable gifts.

People hear and see what they expect to hear and see.

Whenever you are ready, or if you never are, my heart is yours, until Death do us part. Whatever that may mean when consorting with one of Death’s handmaidens.

I cannot tell her I have been moping over a broken heart when I have worked so hard to convince her I have no heart at all.

Every time he glances at me I feel it just as surely as if he has reached out and run his finger along my soul. It is all I can do not to smile at the sheer wonder of it.

Are men truly such idiots that they cannot resist two orbs of flesh?

Why be the sheep when you can be the wolf?

He barks out a laugh. "My little rebel.

I whispered to him, You'll regret it if you let me go. I don't wait for a man, if he's not willing to grow' He didn't believe me, he made his choice & That was the last time, he ever heard my voice.

With red clay between my toes, and the sun setting over my head, the ghost of my mother blows in, riding on a honeysuckle breeze, oh lord, riding on a honeysuckle breeze.

Something is always born of excess: great art was born of great terror, great loneliness, great inhibitions, instabilities, and it always balances them.

As I travel across the country speaking about MS, perhaps I can offer others comfort and hope.

There was a time when I could vote for economic justice, and I can't anymore.

It is a documented fact. I read it in People magazine.

All the streams carry the wisdom of the forest to the lake, and over there, silence replaces the noise!

Without our suffering, our work would simply be social work, very good and helpful, but it would not be the work of Jesus Christ, not part of the Redemption.

The more horrible this world (as today, for instance), the more abstract our art, whereas a happy world brings forth an art of the here and now.

A just man is not one who does no ill, But he, who with the power, has not the will.