I watch my heart disappearing into her rosebud mouth. My Valentine's jest somehow seems less funny.

Any way, death is so final, isn't it? "Is it?" asked Richard. "Sometimes," said the marquis de Carabas. And they went down.

Identity can be so gelatinous sometimes.

Everything that is,casts a shadow

You made peace,” said the buffalo man. “You took our words and made them your own. They never understood that they were here—and the people who worshiped them were here—because it suits us that they are here. But we can change our minds. And perhaps we will.

People can get involved in wonderfully creative ways that have nothing to do with you, but spark off things you begin with.

A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change.