Talking to a drunk person was like talking to an extremely happy, severely brain-damaged three-year-old.

So I wasn't lying, exactly. I was just choosing among truths.

When did we see each other face-to-face? Not until you saw into my cracks and I saw into yours. Before that, we were just looking at ideas of each other, like looking at your window shade but never seeing inside. But once the vessel cracks, the light can get in. The light can get out.

Did I help you toward a fate you didn't want, Alaska, or did I just assist in your willful self-destruction?

Reading a good book helps us to feel un-alone.

Does my eye look okay to you?

We just sat there quiet for a long time, which was fine, and I was thinking about way back in the very beginning in the Literal Heart of Jesus.