Journeys end in lovers meeting; I have spent an all but sleepless night, I have told lies and made a fool of myself, and the very air tastes like wine. I have been frightened half out of my foolish wits, but I have somehow earned this joy; I have been waiting for it for so long.

All cat stories start with this statement: "My mother, who was the first cat, told me this...

God! Whose hand was I holding?

On the moon we wore feathers in our hair, and rubies on our hands. On the moon we had gold spoons.

I was pretending that I did not speak their language; on the moon we spoke a soft, liquid tongue, and sang in the starlight, looking down on the dead dried world.

I never was a person who wanted a handout. I was a cafeteria worker. I'm not too proud to ask the Best Western manager to give me a job. I have cleaned homes.

For plain and fancy worrying, give me a new mother every time.