"I don’t want to go to heaven. None of my friends are there."

"Rain, you smell glorious."

apoetreflects:

Wrong solitude vinegars the soul,
right solitude oils it.
How fragile we are, between the few
good moments.

—Jane Hirshfield, from “Vinegar and Oil” in Come, Thief (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011)

"Live to the point of tears."