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Every word I write hides a scream.
Thinkers are tortured by those who don't think, and those who don't think are tortured by those who do.
She no longer searched; she explored.
Understanding comes in in waves. In waves of words and wordlessness.
When two people touch each other with genuine depth of feeling, what are they trying to do? They're trying to set each other free.
When you love someone, every inch of their skin matters, every sigh, every look towards or away.
Some days everything is more heartbreaking than mysterious.
A sweetness so rare it appeared to be a madness.
The girl I was in childhood is still waiting for me, wondering what's taking me so long.
The sufferings that can't be turned into art. Those sufferings.
If you live from your heart, your heart will break every day, every second. From beauty and lack of beauty. From love and lack of love.
Being open feels beautiful and painful. Being closed feels ugly and safe.
What haunts me is my muse.
To see yourself, but not in a mirror.
What people don't realize is how much the darkness and light are in love with each other.
Tell me what you're more afraid of, losing your heart or your mind, and I will have a sense of who you are.
Imagining a gun that doesn't contain bullets but all the words you want to say to someone that you've been afraid to say.
When love is a burden to the one you love, you know that love is a terrifying thing.
Writing is like running away from home -- towards home.
Art is a sane way to express craziness.
Writer of poetic fragments & aphorisms; publisher, editor, anthologist; philosopher of wonder, failed mystic. Midnight cellist. All writing copyrighted.
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