My work has so much to do with reality that I wanted to have a corresponding rightness. That excludes painting in imitation.
The drugstore is a wonderful place to see all manner of ailments.
When I grew up, all of our news, weather, and sports came from America. The people where I grew up rooted for American teams as opposed to Canadian teams.
I have never looked into my sister's eyes. I have never bathed alone. I have never stood in the grass at night and raised my arms to the beguiling moon. I’ve never used an airplane bathroom. Or worn a hat. Or been kissed like that. I’ve never driven a car. Or slept through the night. Never a private talk. Or a solo walk. I’ve never climbed a tree. Or faded into a crowd. So many things I’ve never done, but oh, how I’ve been loved. And, if such things were to be, I’d live a thousand lives as me, to be loved so exponentially.
I hum some secret place into being, thinking of this other me, the one that only I can see, a girl called She, who is not We, a girl who I will never be.
The strangest thing about strange things is that they're only strange when you hear about them or think about them later, but never when you're living them.
I'm not alone in having obese people in my circle and in my family. I have loved morbidly obese people, and I don't approach obesity with revulsion or judgment but with empathy and compassion.
I'm not going to change it, because I think Mitt Romney has proven to be not a smart person.
Survival is not important. What matters is how you survive.
The clock is impotent; mechanical time does not affect those living in an eternal present.
It looks like half the enjoyment is just having Heaven in our hearts and Heaven in our Homes, feeling Heaven in our bodies in the thrilling love and love-making that we have here and now on Earth in those ecstatic orgasms of the Spirit and the flesh, but also looking forward to Heaven to come!