If my nonviolence is to be contagious and infectious, I must acquire greater control over my thoughts.
Grace, who haunted my thoughts when I couldn’t dream
I don't like being forced to reduce my thoughts to sound bites.
My thoughts amuse me.
I kept a lot of my thoughts inside myself. So, perhaps more than is normal, I'm always questioning my role as a writer. I'm always stopping and asking myself: Do I have the right to tell this story? Is it a story that deserves to be heard? And as for whether I think of myself as a Writer with a capital "W," I very much hope I never do.
I was always drawn to music. It consumed my thoughts and when I realized I could make people feel something through music that is all I wanted to do.
My thoughts are starts I can't fathom into constellations.
Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately.
My thought is me: that is why I cannot stop thinking. I exist because I think I cannot keep from thinking.
My writing table has seen all my wretchedness, knows all my plans, has overheard all my thoughts.
I want to be alone with my thought.
Perhaps I'm just too painstaking a type of person, but I can't grasp much of anything without putting down my thoughts in writing.
I am startled when people are themselves and are not my thoughts of them.
You set up your place in my thoughts, moved in and made my thinking crowded.
My plans often went awry. Much like my thoughts. Hold the phones. Maybe Saan had ADD, too. It would explain a lot.
I don't ever want to humiliate a human being, and I don't want the fear of being humiliated to participate in my thoughts.