Book Me

"Fear," the doctor said, "is the relinquishment of logic, the willing relinquishing of reasonable patterns. We yield to it or we fight it, but we cannot meet it halfway."

When a man carries an instrument of violence, he'll always find the justification to use it.

This isn't happily ever after. It's so much more than that.

You are sunlight falling through trees. You are laughter that breaks through sadness. You are the breeze in a too-warm day. You are clarity in the midst of confusion. You are not the world, but you are everything that makes the world good. Without you, my life would still exist, but that's all it would manage to do.

There's no ride in the world like a storm in fury.

We hold the choices of our fathers and mothers in our hands and when we cling on or let them slip between our fingers, those choices become our own.

Writing, painting, singing - it cannot stop everything. Cannot halt death in its tracks. But perhaps it can make the pause between death's footsteps sound and look and feel beautiful, can make the space of waiting a place where you can linger without as much fear. For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey there between footsteps makes up our lives.

I cannot think of falling without thinking of flying.

The earth reflects the sky and the sky meets the earth and, every now and then, if we're lucky, we have a moment to see how small we are.

Everyone has a currency.

When I climb the steps and emerge above ground, I smell grass coming up, and feel night coming down.

It strikes me that this is how writing anything is, really. A collaboration between you who give the words and they who take them and find meaning in them, or put music behind them, or turn them aside because they were not what was needed.

It was real, at least to me. My evidence is the pain left behind.

How can you truly love somebody when you don't know who they really are?

Everything you were to each other. That is past tense. Let me know when you're ready for the present, or maybe even the future.

Does one good deed wipe out all the others?

We'd face the same fate she will. Is that a good enough reason to say nothing?