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Christmas poem to a man in jailhello Bill Abbott: I appreciate your passing around my books injail there, my poems and stories. if I can lighten the load for some of those guys withmy books, fine. but literature, you know, is difficult for theaverage man to assimilate (and for the unaverage man too); I don't like most poetry, for example, so I write mine the way I like to read it.
Charles Bukowski
She had to reach. She had to want it more than she’d ever wanted anything. She had to grab like a drowning girl for every good thing that came her way and she had to swim like fuck away from every bad thing. She had to count the years and let them roll by, to grow up and then run as far as she could in the direction of her best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by her own desire to heal.
Cheryl Strayed
Now it seems to me that love of some kind is the only possible explanation of the extraordinary amount of suffering that there is in the world. I cannot conceive of any other explanation. I am convinced that there is no other, and that if the world has indeed, as I have said, been built of sorrow, it has been built by the hands of love, because in no other way could the soul of man, for whom the world was made, reach the full stature of its perfection. Pleasure for the beautiful body, but...
Oscar Wilde