Lostography

... I don't care to  be too definite about anything. I have a lot of edges called Perhaps and almost nothing you can call Certainty.

People need art in their houses. They don't need Bed Bath and Beyond dentist-office art. They need weird stuff.

A little light goes out inside me. But I can't locate exactly what was ever lit up.

...each morning I thrashed my way back into the world, having just found my footing when the sun began to set.

We struggled with a monster and lost.

I like to be cared for. But I’m uneasy with my desire for it. I fought it for years.

love is understanding we have the power to hurt one another but we are going to do everything in our power to make sure we don't

It seemed of great importance to him that I understood all of this, and so I took care to be sure I did. The exchange was, for me, exciting, in part intellectually, but in part also because I sensed he might be wooing me with this.

This happens to be my immediate reaction every time someone or something truly gets me, I think, 'Oh, this new book/new friend/new sweater will alter the course of my life in a profound way.'

What I find exciting in a new acquaintance is the thought: maybe I'm making a discovery here; maybe someone is entering my life who is nice. That's what gives me joy: the possibility of goodness. I appreciate exceptional intelligence. I can be charged by beauty, and I'm intrigued by charisma. But I will be moved by goodness.