Your future is uncertain, and I can tell you nothing that can help you. You are singular and dangerous, and so it is that you are sought by both the Dark and the Light.
...only more keenly aware of how her soul starved within her, its wings wasting with the despair of disuse.
...she felt as if her entire body were glowing with the taste of sunlight, of wind blowing in wide spaces and trees reaching their burdened arms to boundless skies.
The risk of all friendship is, alas, a little grief.
At these times, the things that troubled her seemed far away and unimportant: all that mattered was the hum of the bees and the chirp of birdsong, the way the sun gleamed on the edge of a blue wildflower, the distant bleat and clink of grazing goats.
She ached: oh, how she ached. Her soul was like one big bruise.
And all meet in singing, which braids together the different knowings into a wide and subtle music, the music of living.
The river plunged down in a long waterfall, plashing into several rocky pools on its way down the cliff.
You have a great heart, but will only find it to be so through great pain. This is the wisdom of love, and its doubtful gift. . . . I have endured much suffering and still remain unbitter and unclosed.
