“I am going to keep my mind (well, what's left of it) occupied by doing (and I never thought the day would come when I would say this) my homework.”

“When I first moved to LA, no one could understand a thing I said, you would think I was speaking another language. Every time I would order something at Starbucks, they would go, 'Huh? What did you say?' My accent was an issue and my low voice was as well. They thought I should be more girlie. But that's who I am.”

“Come unto me. Come unto me, you say. All right then, dear my Lord. I will try in my own absurd way. In my own absurd way I will try to come unto you, a project which is in itself by no means unabsurd. Because I do not know the time or place where you are. And if by some glad accident my feet should stumble on it, I do not know that I would know that I had stumbled on it. And even if I did know, I do not know for sure that I would find you there. … And if you are there, I do not know that I would recognize you. And if I recognized you, I do not know what that would mean or even what I would like it to mean. I do not even well know who it is you summon, myself.For who am I? I know only that heel and toe, memory and metatarsal, I am everything that turns, all of a piece, unthinking, at the sound of my name. … Come unto me, you say. I, … all of me, unknowing and finally unknowable even to myself, turn. O Lord and lover, I come if I can to you down through the litter of any day, through sleeping and waking and eating and saying goodbye and going away and coming back again. Laboring and laden with endless histories heavy on my back.”

“When I come to the end of my life ― when I come to the real end, at the right time, my mind may flash with random images... But I am not being hopeful about this when I say my last thoughts will be of love.”

“What would I do if you never came here?' But I was ALWAYS coming here. I thought about one of my favorite Sufi poems, which says that God long ago drew a circle in the sand exactly around the spot where you are standing right now. I was never not coming here. This was never not going to happen.”

“The Lost TribeHow long, how long must I regret? I never found my people yet; I go about, but cannot find The blood-relations of the mindThrough my little sphere I range, And though I wither do not change; Must not change a jot, lest they Should not know me on my way.Sometimes I think when I am dead They will come about my bed, For my people well do know When to come and when to go.I know not why I am alone, Nor where my wandering tribe is gone, But be they few, or be they far, Would I were where my people are!”