As long as people are going to call you lunatic anyway, why not get the benefit of it? It liberates you from convention.

I am a forgettable leaf on a tree.

You confuse not speaking with not listening.

Birds know themselves not to be at the center of anything, but at the margins of everything. The end of the map. We only live where someone's horizon sweeps someone else's. We are only noticed on the edge of things; but on the edge of things, we notice much.

I learned to fly on a broom," he said, rolling up his sleeves. "I can learn to milk a goat, I bet." Though flying on a broom proved to be the easier task, he found.

Are you the dart?" he said. "Are you the knife? The fuse?" She said (though he wasn't convinced): "My deane, my poppet, I am too green to walk into a public place and do something bad.

Forgive us our trespasses," says Margarethe, "and get out of our way.