When you stopped wishing things wouldn't fall apart, you'd stop suffering when they did.

It turns out that, somehow, there are a tremendous number of things to be optimistic about.

There are infinite numbers between 0 and 1.

The sky is like a monochromatic contemporay painting, drawing me in its illusion of depth, pulling me up.

He'd fought hard, Lida told me, as if there was another way to fight.

The world went on, as it does, without my full participation, and I only woke up from the reverie when someone said my name.

But it was only hot outside, and generally I only walked outside between one air-conditioned place to another.