Our memories have voices, too. Often sad ones that clamor like raised arms in the dark.

How many have to die before we will give up these dangerous toys?

I think everybody has experiences from time to time they can't explain. They are peculiarities. Usually we just dismiss them because they are uncomfortable to think about.

Let’s talk, you and I. Let’s talk about fear. The house is empty as I write this; a cold February rain is falling outside. It’s night. Sometimes when the wind blows the way it’s blowing now, we lose the power. But for now it’s on, and so let’s talk very honestly about fear. Let’s talk very rationally about moving to the rim of madnessand... and perhaps over the edge.

We all float down here!

...you need openness and inability to do anything other than get to the point.

The world had moved on and all that was over, done before fairly begun.