Like a magpie, I am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales, dead languages, weird folk beliefs, fascinating religions, and more.

Stars got tangled in her hair whenever she played in the sky.

Light coursed through Karou and darkness chased it-burning through her, chilling her, shimmer and shadow, ice and fire, blood and starlight, rushing, roaring, filling her.

She moved like a poem and smiled like a sphinx.

Once upon a time, an angel and a devil fell in love. It did not end well.

A man once said, 'All you need in this life is ignorance and confidence; then success is sure.' Mark Twain, you know. He had a fine mustache. Men of wisdom so often do.

Hope can be a powerful force. Maybe there's no actual magic in it, but when you know what you hope for most and hold it like a light within you, you can make things happen, almost like magic.

She knocked and waited, because when the door was opened from within, it had the potential to lead someplace quite different.

Where am I and doing what? You might well ask. Freaky chick, you say? You can't imagine. I am priestess of a sandcastle in a land of dust and starlight.

I am one of billions. I am stardust gathered fleetingly into form. I will be ungathered. The stardust will go on to be other things someday and I will be free.

I want to build spires in their minds and dance shadows through like marionettes, chased by whispers and hints of the unspeakable.

Silently I dance a dance of chaos to the rhythm of a dying sun

Fool, there is no sense in trying to play that game with the past. Here is where we are today, and we can only make our moves from here.

You take all the fun out of life for me, Nik. You know that?" Aiden- Blood Hunger (Deathless Night Series #1)

May the New Year bring you new grace, new gladness and new glory.

We don't consider the Wizard of Oz or Father Christmas to be too old. They're still magical characters, and the fact they've been around the block only adds to their magic.

I support the state, but not the state-run economy. The state should intervene only to create the conditions necessary for the private sector to thrive.

On a cold and gray Chicago morning another little baby child is born in the ghetto, and his Mama cries.

Driving most supercars is like trying to manhandle a cow up a back staircase, but this is like smearing honey onto Keira Knightley.

People are unrealistic, illogical, and self-centered. Love them anyway.

Black Poetry is not for Black People...it is for everybody