Out of the ash I rise with my red hair and I eat men like air.

The sky leans on me, me, the one upright among all horizontals.

If neurotic is wanting two mutually exclusive things at one and the same time, then I'm neurotic as hell.

Perhaps, perhaps this would be the one to pull me out of my plunge.

If I was going to fall, I would hang on to my small comforts, at least, for as long as I possibly could.

Living with him is like being told a perpetual story: his mind is the biggest, most imaginative I have ever met. I could live in its growing countries forever.

O love, how did you get here?