You wait and wait, you get used to waiting. But when your time comes, you must not miss it.
Relationships are nine parts intuition, one part madness.
When you cut the cords on the safety net and walk out on the highwire, you become yourself and become all that you can be and all that you were meant to be. But first, you must cut the cords.
Somewhere, incredible things are happening. The trick is, not to go out and find where those things are happening, but to go out and make them happen.
I understood how strangers met and fell into bed, not how they met and fell in love. I wasn't sure what falling in love meant. The very notion seemed so corny, so arbitrary, so fragile.
Love is a noun as well as a verb, a treacherous construct.
What is love? Imagine a helium balloon tied down and then you cut the ropes on a windy day. That is love.
I had avoided writing about love. I had never sensed that rush and buzz that comes with love, the release into the brain of body chemicals, pheromones and dopamine - the taste of love to which I was becoming addicted, his spearminty tongue when we ki...
Love and being in love are not the same thing. The woman takes the man she loves into her body and absorbs his oils and essence. A part of him enters her and becomes a part of her.
I was besieged by a yearning, a craving, a burning desire. My heart had opened like one of those mysterious flowers that only bloom at night.
Is this love? The light looks different. Actually the shade looks different. I feel different. Everything is just so different I don't know where to begin...
There are many ways to live, to love, to aspire. The mountain only has one peak but there are limitless paths that you can take to reach it. The secret, they say, is to find your own path and stick to it. What they don't tell you is that the path is ...
If you add the shadow of death to a moment of passion you are in that instant free of all normal ties, your mind grows still and your body enters a state of non-being.
The quest of the alchemists to turn lead into gold is a metaphor for our attempts to turn the base metal of ourselves, that person hooked on consumerism, filled with angst and ambition, into the gold of what we can be and really are.
You enter a book as if you are setting out on a journey and, if it is a good book, you will be a different person when you reach the end.
Sex exists in the now without past or future. If, for a single second, your minds drifts back to the past or forwards into the unknown, the moment withers like a dead plant and the passage of pleasure turns to a road of dust.
It is at night when sleep like the outgoing sea leaves you dry and cold and the morning light arrives like a small punishment.
Time passes quickly while you are travelling, slowly while you are waiting, making time a mental construct we live by as if it is some axiomatic truth, which it is not. The tides are moved by the moon. Nature progresses by seasons. The animals by ins...
Time neither flies nor sleeps. It is flexible, plastic, ever changing. Spend two hours watching a movie curled up with your lover and time ceases to exist. Spend two hours waiting for your lover to come and time is the iron bars of a prison
Inspiration comes from your writing. Thoughts meander subliminally through our subconscious, at night when we sleep the brain is working. In the act of writing, phrases come out and you think: wow, did I write this? Did I have that insight? Sometimes...
The moment of orgasm is like the first dramatic moment of birth when you draw breath and scream out that you are alive. It is hard to imagine the moment when you fade back into the vacuum and draw your last breath.
