Trying to pump breath into a fairy tale is as arduous and tragic as ancient Greek theatre.

Just when you think you have it all figured out, an epiphany arrives at the higher level of one's consciousness.

life weighs heavy upon my shoulders and patience starts wearing thin, it is divine hope and dreams which sustain me, pushing me forth against the wind.

It’s easy to get caught up in where the world is going and lose sight of the direction we were headed.

Wednesday had come and gone in a single breath. As I dreamt of divine love, Picasso, and a vast field of gold, a new dawn had already begun.

She refused to know love again. The thought of another heartbreak was far too much for her to bear.

Carry out your literary dream, no matter how unlikely it may seem...

In art, music, and writing, if it's not of the heart, it means nothing.

Even the shortest love story reminds me of how much I love you.

A person who loves you through your idiosyncrasies, despite the tiny inclusions, is a diamond worth keeping.

Only the broken beyond repair could know my anguish.

You gotta want it.

Down there the nights are bright and nobody believes in the Devil.

Comes over one an absolute necessity to move. And what is more, to move in some particular direction. A double necessity then: to get on the move, and to know whither.

Every major work of art is a transgression, but the artist is not necessarily, by nature, a transgressor.

I get up every morning and read the obituary column. If my name's not there, I eat breakfast.

Writing is like this -- you dredge for the poem's meaning the way police dredge for a body. They think it is down there under the black water, they work the grappling hooks back and forth.

If any of my plays outlive me or get on library book shelves and somehow stay read, all of a sudden it's a testament to "that's part of our culture, that's part of our history."

Jesus Christ has ‘marked the path and led the way’ for each of us. If we follow His lead, we will all return to our heavenly home and be safe in Heavenly Father’s arms.

We all exist in relation to the world, our partners, the human race.

Nature her custom holds, Let shame say what it will.