I closed my eyes to watch tiny dancers like jeweled birds cross the dark screen of my eyelids.

It's all I ever really wanted, that revelation. The possibility of fixed stars.

Women always put men first. That's how everything got so screwed up.

What can I say about life? Do I praise it for letting you live, or damn it for allowing the rest?

It wasn't awful to be dead. The stillness would almost be a relief. She wouldn't want pain, she wouldn't want to be wounded or mutilated. She could never shoot herself or jump off a building. But being dead wasn't unthinkable.

I decided that if I was never going to sell anything as long as I lived, I might as well do what I want to do 'cause then at least I would've done what I wanted to do in life. What's that worth?

What was the point in such loneliness among people. At least if you were by yourself, you had a good reason to be lonely.