Number three is always fortunate.
When I'm writing, the darkness is always there. I go where the pain is.
And I realized that I’d tolerated him this long because of self-doubt.
I was obsessed with religious questions, the basics: Why are we here? Why is the world so beautiful?
I find at moments I'm as fragile as glass.
The earth here is beautiful. And it still belongs to the dead.
Evil is a point of view. . . God kills, and so shall we; indiscriminately. . . for no creatures under God are as we are, none so like Him as ourselves. God kills indiscriminately and so shall we. For no creatures under God are as we are none so like him as ourselves.
Only the fact that we are unaware how well our nearest know us enables us to live with them. Love is the most impregnable refuge of self-esteem, and we hate the eye that reaches to our nakedness. Edith Wharton ~ The Touchstone
Her face was brilliant and glowing; but this glow was not one of brightness; it suggested the fearful glow of a conflagration in the midst of a dark night.
There is one province in which, sooner or later, virtually everyone gets dealt a leading role--hero, heroine, or villain. . . . Unlike the slight implications of quotidian dilemmas that confront the average citizen in other areas of life. . . the stakes in this realm could not be higher. For chances are that at some point along the line you will hold in your hands another person's heart. There is no greater responsibility on the planet. However you contend with this fragile organ, which pounds or seizes in accordance with your caprice, will take your full measure.
When I was in high school in the '50s you were supposed to be an Elvis Presley, a James Dean, a Marlon Brando or a Kingston Trio type in a button-down shirt headed for the fraternities at Stanford or Cal.