Had I known then what I know now, I'd've gone right to the back of the shop.
The Ninth Wave seems that way the more I examine it, curse you.
I don't really know you- but you make interesting reading.
May you find, if you need it, a place where bodies can never be found.
Red is very much your color.
But I still don't get it. Queued commands for a dog puppet?
Perhaps someday we will play on a MUSH together again.
You give everything in the world a bit more worth, like a rain of gold dust: thank you, beloved.
'What is the purpose of the way?" asked Owl.
'To ask questions," Raven replied.
Owl fell silent, and then Porcupine asked 'what sort of questions?'
'That's a very good start', said Raven.
May leaving all the things you miss behind also bury the things you can't stand.
You are the parent of a child who utterly boggles my mind, every time you tell me things he says.
Life wouldn't be the same without Eddie Izzard.
You hold the heart of a friend I value highly, and I am glad that she trusts you with it.
You hold the heart of a friend I value highly, and I am glad that he trusts you with it.
You are my favorite female poet other than Anne Sexton.
Your unflinching dedication to the path that you find proper is amazing to me.
You have changed your entire life- and listening to how much happier you seem every time you speak of it now, I am amazed that you still wonder sometimes if it was the wisest choice.
Some are born with an artistic talent, some achieve artistic talent, and some just wake up one morning and figure out they have it.
How one continues to let his life change without being troubled by the changes that come from without never ceases to amaze me.
No matter how hard life can be: trust me here. It beats the alternative.
To know someone for years and yet continue to find new layers to their personality is perhaps what makes friendship the finest gift of all.
These times are difficult and challenging- but aren't they all.
The patience you exhibit in challenging situations is an inspiration to me.
Whenever I'm not sure what the answer is- you are always one of the first three places I think to find it.
I only know you through your livejournal-- which is always filled with the most amazing wealth of gorgeous antique photographs. Thank you.
Your wit never ceases to amaze me.
Watching you tackle a problem I do not understand not only teaches me the answer to that problem-- but teaches me about the language in which that problem is framed, and the assumptions which fuel a method of thought that seems entirely other, to me.
You balance a keen critical eye against a far better temper than my own, and I envy you this skill.
Time spent with you is like time spent relearning a child's wonder in the world, and I treasure that experience. And the bell peppers.
Despite all the obstacles that you complain exist in the world- whenever I have seen you focus your attention on one goal, you achieve it, and you achieve it faster and more successfully than I could ever manage.
The strength of your faith in a religion that I do not follow is balanced exquisitely by the human compassion that allows you to take the answers that religions offers out of their context and offer them in a secular setting.
You are the most constant friend I have ever known.
You are the closest friend I have ever had.
A major character from a Noel Coward play would be hard-pressed to keep up with your gay wit and keen insightfulness.
A twisted mind is a joy to behold and a pleasure to all who know you.
I do not speak to you nearly as often as I ought- and even less than I would like to.
Your talent for making the one you love feel treasured is a talent I can only watch and admire.
There are few mothers like you.
It's always pleasant to see how you and I will differ from reality in our perceptions: we are off by a similar angle-- but not the same.
I would gladly give up a great deal to have the artistic talent you have, and the abillity to use that talent in my livelihood.
You have been very quiet; I am not certain how your life fares. I hope it is well.
Another friend who has walked a path filled with changes this year- and who has risen to them well.
To know your own imperfections is a difficult cross to bear- to rise up beneath this cross and bear it to the heights, however, is sheerly impressive.
The only difficulty I have with your writing is that there is not enough of it.
Your home brings you joy- and that joy lightens the lives of those around you.
We seem to have some things in common; perhaps we will find more, reading each other's livejournals.
My greatest failing with you is in measuring you against the yardstick I reserve for myself.
We so often find ourselves staring at the same thing with the same wonderment that I am surprised we seldom bring things to each other's attention to stare at.
The world is smaller than we know, and those who are in it larger than we can know.
How many people do I know who brew beer? Heh. Your perspective on the world is always broad and bright- and I keep peeking over your shoulder to try to learn how to see it that way.
No, we don't know each other save from livejournal. But your entries give me a perspective on the world I live in that I otherwise lack. Thanks.
No mask? No mask...
We need to meet under less inauspicious circumstances sometime.
Our mutual friends are a challenge that you meet far far better than I do.
A quiet observation is often far more valuable than being able to describe what is seen in a thousand words.
I barely know you at all- but I always like hearing what you have to say. Our paths seem to be moving into a more parallel course; I look forward to going where you go.
The most important gift you've ever given me is simply to know that I am not alone.
Your caustic sense of humor makes me giggle madly every time I read your posts: you should write an advice column.
I don't understand what makes you tick at all- but I can see that you tick, and I can see that this ticking produces a lovely movement that awes me.
Solitude is a hard game to play- but you play it far better than I.
Your observations are keen and your recollections witty. Thank you for sharing them.
Reading your journal, I see a life that could have been mine-- and only wasn't by the slightest of margins. Reading that you enjoy this life- that you're happy in it- makes me feel less alone.
You remind me that when we leave things behind, they continue to grow and become other things.
Good humor carries one far.
You are a difficult person to put a finger to.
I don't know you at all- but our mutual friends speak very well of you indeed.
You have a very cute butt.
From you, I have learned an unfamiliar degree of patience.
From you I've come to understand that feeling exhausted does not mean that you cannot continue to the end- though a nap can often help.