Only against death does man cry out in vain.

You are ice and fire$$$ the touch of you burns my hands like snow. You are cold and flame. You are the crimson of amaryllis$$$ the silver of moon-touched magnolias. When I am with you$$$ my heart is a frozen pond gleaming with agitated torches.

If I am mad$$$ it is mercy! May the gods pity the man who in his callousness can remain sane to the hideous end!

I've often lost myself$$$ in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake.

One can't fight with oneself$$$ for this battle has only one loser.

God$$$ send me anywhere$$$ only go with me. Lay any burden on me$$$ only sustain me. And severe any tie in my heart except the tie that binds my heart to Yours.

It's all a matter of paying attention$$$ being awake in the present moment$$$ and not expecting a huge payoff. The magic in this world seems to work in whispers and small kindnesses.

Contradict yourself. In order to live$$$ you must remain broken up.

How could an idiotic universe have produced creatures whose mere dreams are so much stronger$$$ better$$$ subtler than itself?

We regard God as an airman regards his parachute; it's there for emergencies but he hopes he'll never have to use it.