When it's over you look up: the world looks the same but you are somehow different and that feeling lingers for days.

What we need,' Henry says, 'is a fresh start. A blank slate. Let's call her Tabula Rasa.

He said something interesting: he said that he thinks there is only free will when you are in time, in the present. He says in the past we can only do what we did, and we can only be there if we were there.

What are you doing?" Nothing. Breaking and entering. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

Henry loves my hair almost as though it is a creature unto itself, as though it has a soul to call its own, as though it could love him back.

When the woman you live with is an artist, every day is a surprise.

I'm bored with knitting. I've taken up arson.