by Liz Heather in


Maybe this is why we read, and why in moments of darkness we return to books: to find words for what we already know.
— Alberto Manguel

by Liz Heather in


People get all fouled up because they want the world to have meaning as if it were words. As if you had a meaning, as if you were a mere word, as if you were something that could be looked up in a dictionary. You are meaning.
— Alan Watts

by Liz Heather in


You aren’t just the age you are. You are all the ages you ever have been.
— Kenneth Koch

by Liz Heather in


My grandfather always said that living is like licking honey off a thorn.
— Louis Adamic

by Liz Heather in


Whether you think you can or think you can’t, either way you are right.
— Henry Ford

by Liz Heather in


She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop window as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.
— Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

by Liz Heather in


I could spend the rest of my life turning my head to speak to her.
— Don DeLillo, White Noise

by Liz Heather in


​The snow has quietness in it; no songs, no smells, no shouts or traffic. When I speak my own voice shocks me.
— Anne Sexton, All My Pretty Ones

by Liz Heather in


I know pretty much what I like and dislike; but please, don’t ask me who I am.
— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

by Liz Heather in


The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails.
— William Arthur Ward