The dead elm leaves hung like folded bats.

The dead elm leaves hung like folded bats.

I am sick of war. Every woman of my generation is sick of war. Fifty years of war. Wars rumored, wars beginning, wars fought, wars ending, wars paid for, wars endured.

things that have cost more than they're worth leave a bitter taste. A taste of salt and sweat.

Teach the legal rights of trees, the nobility of hills; respect the beauty of singularity, the value of solitude.

What is sanity, after all, except the control of madness?

Old people who live too long come to resemble turtles. As though time turned in a curve, and down they go to the reptiles again. Not the little wet naked frog they were born. But the tortoise. Cold eyes, sagging circles of skin, the nose becomes beak. The shell of sleep.