“It is that happy stretch of time when the lovers set to chronicling their passion. When no glance, no tone of voice is so fleeting but it shines with significance. When each moment, each perception is brought out with care, unfolded like a precious gem from its layers of the softest tissue paper and laid in front of the beloved — turned this way and that, examined, considered.”

“This was a voice that drew out memories stretched thin by years of recollection, like paper unfolded and refolded too many times. A voice that brought back, like a wave, the memory of another time on this bridge, a night so long ago, everything black and silver and the river rushing away under her feet...”

“When the rose is gone and the garden fadedyou will no longer hear the nightingale's song.The Beloved is all; the lover just a veil. The Beloved is living; the lover a dead thing.If love withholds its strengthening care,the lover is left like a bird without care,the lover is left like a bird without wings.How will I be awake and awareif the light of the Beloved is absent?Love wills that this Word be brought forth.”

“When we understand how precious each moment is, we can treat each breath, each moment, as a newborn baby.”

“Most people die, living their life paycheck to paycheck,trying to stretch out each dollar, as like a roll of toilet paper. Toiling each tissue, never quite wiping away all the shit from their asses, where the world always takes what little they flush, back into its deprived system, always hungry.”

“Time. To an incarnate, it's nothing, it's insignificant. But when you have people who care about you, who you're excited about, each day becomes significant.”