So much for endings. Beginnings are always more fun. True connoisseurs, however, are known to favor the stretch in between, since it's the hardest to do anything with. That's about all that can be said for plots, which anyway are just one thing after another, a what and a what and a what.

Little girls are cute and small only to adults. To one another they are not cute. They are life-sized.

I have long since decided if you wait for the perfect time to write, you'll never write. There is no time that isn't flawed somehow.

We pulled the seeds out and scattered them on their flossy parachutes, leaving only the leathery brownish yellow tongue, soft as the inside of an elbow.

Time rises and rises, and when it reaches the level of your eyes you drown.

Time is not a thing that passes ... it's a sea on which you float.

I walk away from him. It's enormously pleasing to me, this walking away. It's like being able to make people appear and vanish, at will.