I've noticed that Henry needs an incredible amount of physical activity all the time in order to be happy. It's like hanging out with a greyhound.

I'm living under water. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there's a world up there, a sunlit quick world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense.

What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing.

I never understood why Clark Kent was so hell bent on keeping Lois Lane in the dark.

I sit quietly and think about my mom. It's funny how memory erodes, If all I had to work from were my childhood memories, my knowledge of my mother would be faded and soft, with a few sharp memories standing out.

Mama said, "Dreams are different to real life but important too."

CLARE: The library is cool and smells like carpet cleaner, although all I can see is marble.