How Inevitable It Is; We Step Into

Sometimes We Just Walk Into Something That Is Not For Us At All. We Pretend It Is. We Think We Can Shrug It Off Like A Coat, But It's Not A Coat At All, It's More Like Another Skin. [...] All I Wanted Was To Make My Life Thrilling For A While: To Take The Oridinary Objects Of My Days And Make A Different Argument Out Of Them, No Obligations To My Past.

The Thing About Love Is That We Come Alive In Bodies Not Our Own.

The Point Of Flight. To Get Rid Of Oneself. That Was Reason Enough To Fly.

I Was Fascinated By The Lack Of A Word For A Parent Who Has Lost A Child. We Have No Word In English. I Thought For Sure There'd Be A Word In Irish But There Is None. And Then I Looked In Several Other Languages And Could Not Find One, Until I Found The Word Sh'khol In Hebrew. I'm Still Not Sure Why So Many Languages Don't Have A Word For This Sort Of Bereavement, This Shadowing.

I Don't Really Know What An Adverb Is. A Dangling Participle? That Sounds Really Rude. I Don't Know What Character Is, Really. Plot Seems Vaguely Juvenile To Me. It's All About Language, It's All About How You Apply It To The Page.