When God had made The Man, he made him out of stuff that sung all the time and glittered all over. Some angels got jealous and chopped him into millions of pieces, but still he glittered and hummed. So they beat him down to nothing but sparks but each little spark had a shine and a song. So they covered each one over with mud. And the lonesomeness in the sparks make them hunt for one another.

If you want to write a fantasy story with Norse Gods, sentient robots, and telepathic dinosaurs, you can do just that. Want to throw in a vampire and a lesbian unicorn while you're at it? Go ahead. Nothing's off limits. But the endless possibility of the genre is a trap. It's easy to get distracted by the glittering props available to you and forget what you're supposed to be doing: telling a good story. Don't get me wrong, magic is cool. But a nervous mother singing to her child at night while something moves quietly through the dark outside her house? That's a story. Handled properly, it's more dramatic than any apocalypse or goblin army could ever be.

"believe that this way of living, this focus on the present, the daily, the tangible, this intense concentration not on the news headlines but on the flowers growing in your own garden, the children growing in your own home, this way of living has the potential to open up the heavens, to yield a glittering handful of diamonds where a second ago there was coal. This way of living and noticing and building and crafting can crack through the movie sets and soundtracks that keep us waiting for our own life stories to begin, and set us free to observe the lives we have been creating all along without ever realizing it.

In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you'll never see again.

That to me was the most poignant part of Diana's wedding as she was walking up the aisle and her eyes were going left to right looking at people and smiling in the way that Diana did - and that diamond tiara glittering like mad. It was great.

Yosemite Valley to me is always a sunrise a glitter of green and golden wonder in a vast edifice of stone and space.

Ah lives of men! When prosperous they glitter - Like a fair picture when misfortune comes - A wet sponge at one blow has blurred the painting.

It's funny because I'm a sucker for glitz and glitter when it comes to clothes and nail polish but with my makeup I'm more comfortable with a natural look. It feels more like me.

I'm a lapsed Quaker. I don't go to meetings any more. But I'm very drawn to Catholicism - all that glitter. I'd love to be a Catholic. I think it would be fantastic - faith forgiveness absolution extreme unction - all these wonderful words. I don't think anyone who was ever born a Catholic hasn't died a Catholic no matter how lapsed they are.

I never dreamt of being a musician for my livelihood. I certainly never would have wanted to be in the business that I'm in meaning the fame and the glory the glitter the rock star the famous part.