A particular piece of music attaches itself to the piece I'm writing, and there is nothing else I can listen to. Every day I return to the same space to write, the music providing both the walls and the pictures on the walls.
If you have a piece by Bach, he often develops the piece to such a high level that you can hardly do much more to it. But Saint-Luc wrote very simple baroque music, and so if you do not embellish it, it just falls apart. It's way too simple.
I became comfortable with what I knew would be the process of trying to pick up the pieces of brain that were in the rubble and tried to make some mosaic out of the pieces and that that would be the trajectory.
I had a dream about you. It was just you and me at the table, and there were two pieces of apple pie available. You thought it worked out perfectly, but I thought it was a problem, because with two of us there, and two pieces of pie, I wondered if th...
When you give your heart away, you usually get it back in pieces, fragments. And often, a great deal of time passes before you realize that every piece wasn’t returned to you—and probably never will be. You crave nothing more than to get those sm...
My favourite finds are often antique pieces with a history.
A little love, a little kindness, a little hope, a little joyfulness, a little tolerance, a little gratefulness, brings harmony and creates peacefulness.
I never knew him. We both knew this place, apparently, this literal small backwater, looked at it long enough to memorize it, our years apart. How strange. And it's still loved, or its memory is (it must have changed a lot). Our visions coincided--'v...
When Molly O'Toole was looking at the colored pictures in Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle's big dictionary and just happened to be eating a candy cane at the same time and drooled candy cane juice on the colored pictures of gems and then forgot and shut the book ...
There are times in every person’s life when they feel lonely, isolated, like maybe they don’t belong. For adoptees, this is often exacerbated by the circumstances. Because you were given up, you have a built-in scapegoat; you can blame everything...
Terence Fletcher: You are upset. [Andrew nods yes] Terence Fletcher: Say it. Andrew: I'm upset. Terence Fletcher: Say it so the whole band can hear you. Andrew: [a little louder] I'm upset! Terence Fletcher: Louder! Andrew: [loud] I'm upset! Terence ...
May be we will meet again somewhere in future... With little less complications, little less worries, little less pain and a little smile on our faces remembering how stupid we were to take such decisions which kept us waiting for a happier day with ...
I pulled myself from his mind, day by day, piece by piece, memory by memory, until there was nothing of Ruby left to weigh him down or keep him bound to my side..
Chocolateism: Maintain your integrity even in the atmosphere of compromise, for it only takes one step in compromise, to start losing character.
I think that ultimately - as I say to most of the people who are acquiring art - I can tell you my reality of a piece, but ultimately what's more important will be yours. I can tell you what a piece means to me, but just as valid if not more is what ...
After loss of Identity, the most potent modern terror, is loss of sexuality, or, as Descartes didn’t say, "I fuck therefore I am".
The piece of junk is a piece of me. It’s a part of my family, and I can’t part with it. The rusty can is all my father left me when he left us to be in a relationship with a goat. Ah, but that’s life, no?
Whether or not I protect the weeds isn't a matter of just recognizing the weed for what it is, but possessing the conviction to grab hold of the roots and yank like my life depends on it.
From time to time, you may see a girl wearing her black opaque tights as pants. They are, in fact, not.
She talked about wanting to be a part of something, wanting to be desired, to be 'special', craving to be loved. She talked about experiencing the kind of loneliness so immense it could swallow you up. She called it 'loneliness that crowds couldn't c...
Death abides by no one's rules...it takes what pleases it without consciousness to its decisions. It destroys what it will. It took the pieces of perfection I once knew and shattered them. Now what remains are shards of a dream, drawing blood with ev...
