Of two sisters one is always the watcher, one the dancer.

At first I saw you everywhere. Now only in certain things, at longer intervals.

Like a child, the earth's going to sleep, or so the story goes. But I'm not tired, it says. And the mother says, You may not be tired but I'm tired

As I saw it, all my mother's life, my father held her down, like lead strapped to her ankles. She was buoyant by nature; she wanted to travel, go to the theater, go to museums. What he wanted was to lie on the couch with the Times over his face, so that death, when it came, wouldn't seem a significant change.

The master said you must write what you see / But what I see does not move me / The master answered Change what you see.

What was difficult was the travel, which, on arrival, is forgotten.

17. The self ended and the world began. They were of equal size, commensurate, one mirrored the other. 18. The riddle was: why couldn't we live in the mind. The answer was: the barrier of the earth intervened.