“So often, we had the tendency of saying, they're the problem. No, they're not the problem. Our heart is the problem. they are just there to show me what is in my heart. They don't put those things in my heart. They don't put the wrath, the bitterness in my heart. Those things are already there. They are the vessels God uses to to release what is in my heart so that I am aware of how black my heart really is.”

“I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart againstThe want of you;Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,And posting it.”

“I always imagined music trapped inside my clarinet, not trapped inside of me. But what if music is what escapes when a heart breaks?”

“Isn't that how it is when you must decide with your heart? You are not just choosing one thing over another. You are choosing what you want. And you are also choosing what somebody else does not want, and all the consequences that follow. You can tell yourself, That's not my problem, but those words do not wash the trouble away. Maybe it is no longer a problem in your life. But it is always a problem in your heart.”

“You are ice and fire,The touch of you burns my hands like snow.You are cold and flame.You are the crimson of amaryllis,The silver of moon-touched magnolias.When I am with you,My heart is a frozen pondGleaming with agitated torches.”

“I don't know how the heart withstands it.”

“It is a terrible thing to be so open: it is as if my heart put on a face and walked into the world.”