“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery – air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, This is what it is to be happy.”

Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.

We must be moving, working, making dreams to run toward; the poverty of life without dreams is too horrible to imagine.

When you give someone your whole heart and he doesn’t want it, you cannot take it back. It’s gone forever.

I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.

Only I wasn’t steering anything, not even myself.

Every day is precious and I feel infinitely sad at this time melting away from me.

Love is the bone and sinew of my curse.

Everything in life is writable.

I woke to the sound of rain.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.

I like people too much or not at all. I’ve got to go down deep, to fall into people, to really know them.

It is awful to want to go away and to want to go nowhere.

I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.

Life has been some combination of fairy-tale coincidence and joie de vivre and shocks of beauty together with some hurtful self-questioning.

See, the darkness is leaking from the cracks. I cannot contain it. I cannot contain my life.

What I fear most, I think, is the death of the imagination.

I want to ride in a cold air balloon. “This isn’t going anywhere!”

Here’s a thought for sweat shop owners: Air Conditioning. Problem solved.

The way in which the vast mass of the poor are treated by modern society is truly scandalous. They are herded into great cities where they breathe a fouler air than in the countryside which they have left.

The last time I felt alive – I was looking into your eyes. Breathing your air, touching your skin, saying goodbye. The last time I felt alive, I was dying.

If you’re sexy and you know it put your hands up in the air. Put your hands up in the air, girl, put your hands up.

Prostitution gives her an opportunity to meet people. It provides fresh air and wholesome exercise, and it keeps her out of trouble.

Environmental laws were not passed to protect our air and water, they were passed to get votes.

I’m breathing dreams like air, like there will never be enough of them to fill up the space in my lungs.