Once everyone thought you were crazy, they ignored you even when you told the truth.

If he had to spend the evening with madwomen, he would prefer at least one of them be willing to let him grope her.

As he had kissed her neck, she could not repress the feeling she was a lamb making time with a wolf.

She knew the power of bureaucracy well enough to be aware she had to sit and be admonished until this stranger felt she had expressed sufficient disappointment in a girl she would never have to see again.

No one should ever die alone. Rejoin the love of the goddess who made you. No longer a man, no longer a human, you must go as only your essence back to She who made you, into the womb of the Great Mother. You have again become a seed that will form into other lives...

If you think it is spiritual to burn food in front of starving people in hopes that your gods will bring this back to you in triplicate, you are missing the point and sowing animosity from all sides.

Within you, within all human beings, is a seed of greatness that makes their kind quake with fear.

There was a charm in being reborn into the world when one was old enough to appreciate it.

I don’t think I’m being harassed by little green stalkers. I don’t know what’s really going on, but I’d rather try to eliminate all rational excuses before blaming intergalactic monkeys from the fourth dimension who are somehow interested in this really boring town.

As long as she persisted in her belief that bafflement justified her actions, she felt confident no one would contradict her.

College is a blossoming new world of genital opportunity.

If it took eons to get to the edge of one’s galactic yard, she could not imagine the neighbors dropping by for a casual visit, especially since the heavenly houses were uninhabitable well into the next state.

Disbelief is the strongest tool in our arsenal.

Her mother admonished through closed lips, the sound a mother can make mean anything from “pick up your socks” to “we are very disappointed you have murdered those orphans.

We half-eat cookies and drink the milk, we leave notes, all so kids will believe in something that isn’t true. Kids try their best to scientifically determine whether Santa’s real and our whole culture feeds them false evidence. We dupe them.

They do not like evidence like that, anything too definite because our first instinct is to find flaws and debunk. They want to be discussed and portrayed, but never proven. They want to be credited as the true makers of the pyramids and lifters of Stonehenge when it had much more to do with the...

My life edges out any sense of sanity I can have, and I come to realize there won’t be a point where things can be ordinary again, or as ordinary as I would have them.

He regarded Huginn as only slightly more dangerous than most pets, in that he understood why people had pets but harbored the paranoia they would one day eat their owners. True, it kept Eliot from even having a pet larger than his fist, but it also kept him from being kibble.

He relented to the kiss and gave of himself what she required, his lips parting in symmetry with hers until the moment of realization collapsed.

I have never tried to walk through a mall in the Christmas season dressed like a jolly old elf. You might as well dress up like a pork chop and walk into an alley full of starving dogs.

My main nurturing instinct toward children is mild sadism–picking them up and threatening to drop them–which is why I am a good uncle but would make a poor father.

Man created god upon his thoughts to externalize, to give form to his belief to give a reason for what they could do. The gods stole away the energies, let man believe he was ruled rather than that he rules.

We are left at the brink of our future each day and the only real choice we have is not to jump but instead make our path through the briar.

I don’t know what my future will bring me and it’s terrifying. To stand before this vast expanse and know that the future could take away what matters most simply because that is the nature of indifferent chaos in the hands of wanton boys.

If she had some level of theism, we might have a shared theological root from which I could shape holy words.

Well, what if you are wrong? What if the world doesn’t work the way you think? What would that mean?

Everyone you meet is an aspect of the gods and has a lesson to teach you.

Private moments held not a candle to coitus, not even the expensive kind of candle that made the whole room smell of far off seasons.

I was pure, before you defiled me, and don’t you forget it. As though the concept of purity is anything more than the construct of selfish, competitive men stampeding toward the women to call dibs. I’ll be damned if I’m not worth stampeding toward, but the prize had better be me, hymen or no hymen.

She was not the sort of woman guys settle for. She was the one they lust after and strive for. She was the one who ruins other people’s relationships simply by existing, but she will always be surmounted as guys come to realize the virtues of the approachable girl next door. She was, in brief,...

They may have been rightly overbearing in her formative years, but they also loved Roselyn enough to trust she needed dreams more than realities.

I tried turning my back on all this, but it is inside me. Like when I was little and you read me that story of the girl who hated footprints and shadows, so she tried to run away from both. But her shadow was always there, and she only made more footprints by running.

She could never understand why creatures of darkness had the slightest interest in spineless human girls.

Being kidnapped and abused by the undead was worse than calculus, but not by a wide margin.

I missed you,” she cried into him. Standing on top of the snow gave him an additional few inches on her and she rested her head against his chest. She could hear nothing within, just her own heartbeat echoing.

You’re like this…this goddess pretending to be human… And I don’t know which one I love.

My characters will happily march off a cliff if it is in them to do so, but may the gods help me if I write that the character is an alcoholic when they are not. They will fight me at every turn and it is their domain. A writer cannot win against a stubborn character.

You have to surrender yourself to the experience.

Magick need not be a crutch, but it is hard to argue that anything you lean on in lieu of building your own strength weakens resolve.

Mrs. Kaspar” sounded too like a phone solicitor, which would not do after having kissed the circumference of her son’s neck.

A modern culture built on the back of dying gods immerses me.

She had picked up life where she had left off… and hoped that would be enough to get the universe to politely overlook her.

None of us just pop into the world fully formed, so it’s the little facts that make us.

American culture enforces such rigid gender roles for male friendships that they are gay unless they materially resemble a beer commercial.

That these people are wandering around, looking for aliens to justify the emptiness inside them and let them feel special without effort, creeps me out.

[T]hese friends were of the female persuasion, and while by and large they were bi and large, they still represented potential threats on [her] feminine radar.

The demons are not easily dispatched, instead attaching themselves to otherwise beautiful things, a favorite food or a love note left for you, to see how you react when they rear up.

The witch who claims to forbear her magick for fear of causing the next Indian tsunami is really saying that she is powerful enough to kill thousands of innocent strangers when all she meant to do was water her mugwort. She can’t be challenged to produce evidence of this, because doing could provoke earthquakes and...

Mythology was littered with people who meddled in the affairs of elves and fairies and were never again heard from.

If you can’t feel the touch of the gods on your own, it greatly behooves you to work on that before some lecher tells you his touch is just as good.