“She told me there was a place on my face she wanted to inhale.”

“He left the next morning, searching for a city with light that reminded him of me. He would mail me empty envelopes and boxes, I would take them into my closet, shut the door, and quickly open them...”

“I don't know if I have ever truly believed that everyone deserves love. But if I had to take it one moment further into those shadowed valleys of heartfull, I would admit that I do believe that lov...”

“there are these places on your poem, / where I want to write bodies.”

“and you taste / of the memory of god abandoned.”

“The city they are building asks you to stay; remind yourself what is worth keeping, while the lighthouse of your moan warns the ship of your heart that he is a stone.”

“The soul, they say, is divine and the flesh is iniquity. But I am a musician and I ask this - without the wood and the strings of the violin, where would the sonata find form?”

“ I suppose that it is not so easy to go home and it takes a bit of time to make a son out of a stranger.”

“Everyone wanted me to be the bad boy, the label wanted it, the publicists wanted it, but I was just trying to be myself.”

“A prose that is altogether alive demands something of the reader that the ordinary novel reader is not prepared to give.”

“Prose divides shame into stations.”

“He lifted his arm that had been resting on her shoulders and gazed at the words she had written on his hand. He had been branded as cattle are branded to show whom they belong to. The cold mountain...”