I used to pray to recover you.

I opened the door and blinked out into the bright hall. I had the impression it wasn't night and it wasn't day, but some lurid third interval that had suddenly slipped between them and would never end.

The box is only temporary.

The reason I haven't been writing in this book for so long is partly that I haven't had one decent coherent thought to put down.

Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old bray of my heart. I am. I am. I am.

How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.