Real love is always chaotic. You lose control; you lose perspective. You lose the ability to protect yourself. The greater the love, the greater the chaos. It’s a given and that’s the secret.

There must be balance. Action and reaction. Chaos and order. Death and life.

I think frankly when it comes to chaos you ain’t seen nothing yet.

Whereas life separates meaning from emotion, art unites them. Story is an instrument by which you create such epiphanies at will, the phenomenon known as aesthetic emotion…Life on its own, without art to shape it,...

I heard them tearing at it. It was the sound of mortality.

I mean every word of my divine chaos.

I wonder if being sane means disregarding the chaos that is life, pretending only an infinitesimal segment of it is reality.

Why do we live out every day as if there is no hope to overcome our chaos and no possibility for living a stressed-less life when Scripture repeatedly reassures us that God has the power...