There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.

Not only do I not know what's going on, I wouldn't know what to do about it if I did.

The black wolf’s curse awakes every time that a full moon points in the middle of the sky.

There's no present. There's only the immediate future and the recent past.

The reason I talk to myself is that I'm the only one whose answers I accept.

I have waltzed with wolves and howled at the moon. But my heart will always remember the slow-dance that ended much too soon.