“Editing. This never-ending maze through which I run, searching soulful nooks for the faintest shimmers of solace or escape. There is no such comfort. I tread this treacherous path of shadows, this menacing labyrinth that never stops beckoning. I'm like a woman whose soul is possessed, standing on the edge. It wants me. Calls to me. Consumes my every thought. Closing my eyes, my arms open wide. Submitting, I fall in.”

“Like most people, my views about ghosts and haunted places were traditional while growing up. I believed ghosts were human spirits. Not that I talked to many people about the subject or my experiences. I assumed people would think I was weird.”

“It gets harder as times go by, because memory is the first casualty of manic depression. When I'm manic, all I remember is the moment. When I'm depressed, all I remember is the pain. The surrounding details are lost to me.”

“I never had anyone I could call “Master”. No Christ died for me. No Buddha showed me the right path. In the depths of my dreams no Apollo or Athena appeared to me to enlighten my soul”

“I'm of a fearsome mind to throw my arms around every living librarian who crosses my path, on behalf of the souls they never knew they saved.”

“He's staring at me like he's never seen me before. I want to wash my soul in the bottomless blue of his eyes.”

“The world -- this shadow of the soul, or other me, lies wide around. Its attractions are the keys which unlock my thoughts and make me acquainted with myself. I run eagerly into this resounding tumult...So much only of life as I know by experience...The true scholar grudges every opportunity of action past by, as a loss of power.”