There was a part of her she hadn’t yet allowed to be born because it was too beautiful for this place

After the film it was raining, a light steady rain. Ruthless neon on the wet streets like busted candy.

There's so much goop inside of us, man," he said, "and it all just wants to get out.

Through this feeling of helplessness suddenly burst a piercing nostalgia for the lost world of childhood. The way it came right up against the heart, that world, and against the face. No indoors or outdoors, only everything touching us, and the grown-ups lumbering past overhead like constellations.

This wasn't the sea of the inexorable horizon and smashing waves, not the sea of distance and violence, but the sea of the etenally leveling patience and wetness of water. Whether it comes to you in a storm or in a cup, it owns you--we are more water than dust. It is our origin and our destination.

I make the road. I draw the map. Nothing just happens to me...I'm the one happening.

He got right down in the dark between heartbeats, and rested there. And then he saw that another one wasn't going to come. That's it. That's the last. He looked at the dark. I would like to take this opportunity, he said, to pray for another human being.