I am entirely alone. I and my shadow fill the universe.

I drew the curtains to conceal the sight of my father's farewell; my spite was sharp as broken glass.

And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.

The clown may be the source of mirth, but - who shall make the clown laugh?

Among the monsters, I am well hidden; who looks for a leaf in a forest?

It is far easier for a woman to lead a blameless life than it is for a man; all she has to do is to avoid sexual intercourse like the plague.

She herself is a haunted house. She does not possess herself; her ancestors sometimes come and peer out of the windows of her eyes and that is very frightening. from "The Lady of the Haunted House