Wait$$$ wait$$$ wait$$$ wait. Don't try to write through it$$$ to force it. Many do but that won't work. Just wait$$$ it will come.

I am nothing to you. You say I am wilderness. I am. Is that a tremble on your mouth$$$ in your eye? Are you afraid? You should be.

Hate does that. Burns off everything but itself$$$ so whatever your grievance is$$$ your face looks just like your enemy's.

Whatever happens$$$ whether you get rich or stay poor$$$ ruin your health or live to old age$$$ you always end up back where you started: hungry for the one thing everybody loses - young loving.

I write the way women have babies. You don't know it's going to be like that. If you did$$$ there's no way you would go through with it.

Perhaps that's what all human relationships boil down to: Would you save my life? Or would you take it?

How exquisitely human was the wish for permanent happiness$$$ and how thin human imagination became trying to achieve it.

We mistook violence for passion$$$ indolence for leisure$$$ and thought recklessness was freedom.

All paradises$$$ all utopias are designed by who is not there$$$ by the people who are not allowed in.

There is really nothing more to say-except why. But since why is difficult to handle$$$ one must take refuge in how.