Home is where your teapots are.

I know of witches who whistle at different pitches, calling things that don't have names.

This was a little house, with a ceiling that kept getting higher and higher, a hot place with no windows. This was anger.

Imagine having a mother who worries that you read too much. The question is, what is it that's supposed to happen to people who read too much? How can you tell when someone's crossed the line.

The language of [Catholic] mysticism - its repeated attempts to lay consciousness itself bare and speak all the intensely opposing yet interconnected parts of it that cannot be spoken.

Once you let people know anything about what you think, that's it, you're dead. Then they'll be jumping about in your mind, taking things out, holding them up to the light and killing them, yes, killing them, because thoughts are supposed to stay and grow in quiet, dark places, like butterflies in cocoons.

And she walked away, and she walked away, and that was that, and that was that.