Stab me if you can enjoy it - but not if it feels like a duty. Stab me vertically if I’m lying down and horizontally if I’m running

Since childhood I’d been suspected of imagination

a story is ready when it falls from your face

...they didn’t think there was anything very odd in anyone being a little odd.

No one knows very much about the life of another. This ignorance becomes vivid, if you love another. Love sets the imagination on fire, and, also, eventually, chars the imagination into a harder element: imagination cannot match love, cannot plunge so deep, or range so wide.

In those moments it's hard to remember that an angry voice is an invisible thing incapable of drawing blood.