But all that is warm will go cold. My ears will fall off and my eyes will melt. My mouth will be clamped shut. My lips will turn to glue. ...No taste or smell or touch or sound.Nothing to look at. Total emptiness for ever.

Don't pretend to care. I don't need you as an anesthetic.

I imagine horses in the engine, their manes flying, their breaths steaming, their nostrils flaring as they gallop.

I didn't understand that when you make love, you actually do MAKE love. Stir things. Affect each other. The breath that escapes from me is dazzled. He breathes it in with a gasp.

We make patterns, we share moments. Sometimes, I think I'm the only one to see it.

I've always wanted to be a cat. Warm and domesticated when you want to be, wild when you don't.

I feel something very small growing inside me as I look at her, and I realize in one absolutely clear moment that I don't like her at all. 'You know what?' I say. 'Forget it. I'll do the list by myself.' She stands up, swings her stupid hair about and tries to look offended. It's a trick that works with guys, but it makes no difference to the way I feel about her.