What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.

You meet all kinds of people that help put life in perspective and turn the horror into some kind of lesson or avenue of awakening that lives with you all your days.

God, make me so uncomfortable that I will do the very thing I fear.

The kind of beauty I want most is the hard-to-get kind that comes from within - strength, courage, dignity.

I think I made you up inside my head.

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

I am gone quite mad with the knowledge of accepting the overwhelming number of things I can never know, places I can never go, and people I can never be.

How we need another soul to cling to.

Your room is not your prison. You are.

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.

We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.

I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.

Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little?

Hour by hour, day by day, life becomes possible.

Kiss me and you will see how important I am.

It is so much safer not to feel, not to let the world touch me.

I dream too much, work too little.

I write only because There is a voice within me That will not be still

I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give.