He has been disassembled by her. And if she has brought him to this, what has he brought her to?

In the desert you celebrate nothing but water.

...sometimes we enter art to hide within it. It is where we can go to save ourselves, where a third-person voice protects us.

I have to teach myself not to read too much into everything. It comes from too long having to read into hardly anything at all.

All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps.

Kirpal's left hand swoops down and catches the dropped fork an inch from the floor and gently passes it into the fingers of his daughter, a wrinkle at the edge of his eyes behind his spectacles.

For echo is the soul of the voice exciting itself in hollow places.