They would grow old. They would forget me.

The only reason I remembered this play was because it had a mad person in it, and everything I had ever read about mad people stuck in my mind, while everything else flew out.

The floor seemed wonderfully solid. It was comforting to know I had fallen and could fall no farther.

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

I've got to have something. I want to stop it all, the whole monumental grotesque joke, before it's too late. But writing poems and letters doesn't seem to do much good.

Please don’t expect me to always be good and kind and loving. There are times when I will be cold and thoughtless and hard to understand.

I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root: It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there.