Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its place among the elements.

I buried my head under the darkness of the pillow and pretended it was night. I couldn't see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.

Love is a shadow. How you lie and cry after it

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.

So many people are shut up tight inside themselves like boxes, yet they would open up, unfolding quite wonderfully, if only you were interested in them.

Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.

What did my arms do before they held you?