As you are now so once were we.

Love, yes. Word known to all men.

It is a symbol of Irish art. The cracked looking-glass of a servant.

What did that mean, to kiss? You put your face up like that to say goodnight and then his mother put her face down. That was to kiss. His mother put her lips on his cheek; her lips were soft and they wetted his cheek; and they made a tiny little noise: kiss. Why did people do that with their two faces?

The heaventree of stars hung with humid nightblue fruit.

My words in her mind: cold polished stones sinking through a quagmire.

Redheaded women buck like goats.