The bees in my stomach are dead and getting used to it.

I had a good-talking candle last night in my bedroom. I was very tired but I wanted somebody to be with me, so I lit a candle and listened to its comfortable voice of light until I was asleep.

...what makes you older is when your bones, muscles and blood wear out, when the heart sinks into oblivion and all the houses you ever lived in are gone and people are not really certain that your civilization ever existed.

We could see the children's toys here and there, and we saw a game that the children had made themselves out of dirt, deer antlers and abalone shells, but the game was so strange that only children could tell what it was. Perhaps it wasn't a game at all, only the grave of a game.

I'm in a constant process of thinking about things.

I’ll affect you slowly as if you were having a picnic in a dream. There will be no ants. It won’t rain.

If you are thinking about something that happened a long time ago: Somebody asked you a question and you did not know the answer. That is my name.