“Our finger prints don't fade from the lives we touch.”

“I put my hand on him. Touching him has always been important to me, it was something I lived for. I never could explain why. Little, nothing touches, my fingers against his shoulder, the outsides of our thighs touching as we squeeled together on the bus. I couldnt explain it, but I needed it. Sometimes I imagined stiching all of our little touches together. How many hundreds of thousands of fingers brushing against each other does it take to make love?”

“How fleeting is this world
yet it survives.
It is ourselves that fade from it
and our ephemeral lives.”

“One reason we stop praying or let our prayer lives fade is that we are too comfortable.”

“Nothing prints more lively in our minds than something we wish to forget.”

“There is relationship between sight and touch, something about eyes being able to see through the fingers touching the clay, about fingers being able to feel what the eyes are seeing without the fingers actually touching it.”

“I kept having dreams all night. I thought they were touching me with their fingers. But dreams don't have fingers, they have fists, so it must have been scorpions.”

“The denigration of those we love always detaches us from them in some degree. Never touch your idols: the gilding will stick to your fingers.”

“Our lives are like the wind… or like sounds.

We come into being, resonate with each other…

Then fade away”

“There is something truer and more real, than what we can see with the eyes, and touch with the finger.”