I write because I love to play with language.

Oh, my Lolita, I have only words to play with!

Very early in life I became fascinated with the wonders language can achieve. And I began playing with words.

I love words. I thank you for hearing my words. I want to tell you something about words that I think is important. Words are my work, they’re my play. They’re my passion. Words are all we have really. We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. And, then we assign a word to a thought and we’re stuck with that word for that thought. So be careful with words. The same words that hurt can heal.

My voice goes after what my eyes cannot reach, with the twirl of my tongue I encompass words and volumes of words

I gotta use words to talk to you.

Words bounce. Words, if you let them, will do what they want to do and what they have to do.

I like the feeling of words doing as they want to do and as they have to do.

Words create worlds.

Words to me were magic. You could say a word and it could conjure up all kinds of images or feelings or a chilly sensation or whatever. It was amazing to me that words had this power.

Words, words, words.

Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.

If a thing can be said in ten words, I may be relied upon to take a hundred to say it. I ought to apologize for that. I ought to prune, pare and extirpate excess growth, but I will not. I like words — strike that, I love words — and while I am fond of the condensed and economical use of them in poetry, in song lyrics, in Twitter, in good journalism and smart advertising, I love the luxuriant profusion and mad scatter of them too.

I love the swing and swirl of words as they tangle with human emotions.