I wish I had the blood of six tribes. To have their ancient songs fight within my veins and fill me with such a primal vigor that my skin would burst.

I have the blood of five European countries, all pale in their own respect, with light eyes and the dull taste of ginger, with the wrath of the sun etched on my skin.

When I was four, I dreamt of the hole in my kitchen, punctured many years before my birth. It is located about 7 inches away from the second kitchen sink and is about 1.25 feet in diameter. No one ever believed me.

There are three holy spirits which manifest themselves in an infinite number of physical ways. My favorite are my dogs, the warm comfort of fleece blankets and the smooth sound of birdsong through my Sunday morning window.

If I had two lives, I would live the second to the full of its extent with ease, for my practice would nourish perfection.

For my first life, I would have wasted it in the empty idleness of my own youth.