Westcott lived in the most perilous zone between waking and night—the shadowlands of watching and waiting, questioning and listening. He lived in the glade of remembrance.” —from Who Has Known Heights

The body is a museum for memories. I am the Smithsonian.

The day after the darkest hour is always the most beautiful.

Above all her voice moved him. He had not known that an accent seduced his emotions. But he’d always been drawn to those with an accent. Be it woman or man. It sounded nicer. A lavender husk. More proper, elegant. His attuned ear seemed to be remembering voices from another life, another time. He could never escape the sense that he’d lost a life dear to him and that life was lived in another language.-from Who Has Known Heights: The Mystique Memoirs of a Melancholic Mind

To love completely is to remember a time and place before; the knowledge of losing it only strengthens it. —from Who Has Known Heights: The Mystique Memoirs of a Melancholic Mind

Loneliness is an emaciation of the spirit. -Who Has Known Heights: The Mystique Memoirs of a Melancholic Mind

Anything could happen here and who would know? It was a new place to me, but timeless in its own right. Regn had never stood here. All these years since and we'd been so close to 'this' obscurity. Its hidden proximity is what disquieted.

That he had been born an artist—in all ways—a paragon of romantic torment out of the likes of some Brontë novel—has yet to make itselfknown to him. He watches himself unfold.

There reaches a time when it is betrayal for a woman to sleep with her husband.

Confidence is being sure even when you don’t have all the answers. It’s a gut feeling. A sensibility that doesn’t always have proof going into the situation but most nearly always has evidence on the way out.