All I can hope for is a reconstruction: the way love feels is always only approximate.

“I stand on the corner, pretending I am a tree. ”

“What fiendishness went on in kitchens across the country, in the name of provid…”

“Anything that suffers and dies instead of us is Christ; if they didn't kill bir…”

“What am I living for and what am I dying for are the same question.”