Music stays in the air. / It travels at the speed of breath / at the sound of light. / It is never not heard. / It can wait centuries if it has to.

Pain can be washed out with a song. / Pain can become jazz digested and transformed.

Survival is a four letter word.

A girl is a soul at sunrise.

Yes I graduated from high school. Welfare. Temporary work, please. What is my problem? I want to eat.

The house has to be clean and in order because I have to be able to sift through the creative disorder in my mind. The mental disorder that I'm exploring has to bounce off the walls. It has to go in and out of different rooms. If the room is not in order, then I can't distinguish which is which, and that really drives me crazy.

I don't see what people get from hating other people unless it's a special thing I just ain't hip to.

Writers are given the responsibility of sight. I think that the whole burden, responsibility and beauty of the gift forces us to construct our lives differently so that we are able to become vehicles to transcend, to encompass and articulate not only our own experience but the experiences of others.

To change is to be vulnerable. And to be vulnerable is to be alive.

babies ain't cute / hungry.

Politics is a word spelled N-O-W.

Writers are spies. Outsiders. Believers in the turning pages.