I did not lose myself all at once. I rubbed out my face over the years washing away my pain, the same way carvings on stone are worn down by water.

I recognise why I have such a strong inability to forgive certain people who betray me. It's chiselled in, like a name on a tomb stone.

I don't steer clear of genres. I simply haven't steered myself toward some of them.

I felt ashamed of being different and ashamed of feeling that way.

Poetry. I read Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, and Jane Hirschfield. I like to read Billy Collins out loud.

The foolish are like ripples on water, For whatsoever they do is quickly effaced; But the righteous are like carvings upon stone, For their smallest act is durable.