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

I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I'd never seen before in my life.

I hate Technicolor. Everybody in a Technicolor movie seems to feel obliged to wear a lurid costume in each new scene and to stand around like a clotheshorse with a lot of very green trees or very yellow wheat or very blue ocean rolling away for miles and miles in every direction.

I have the one person I could ever love in this world. Now I must work to be a person worthy of that.

What horrifies me most is the idea of being useless: well-educated, brilliantly promising, and fading out into an indifferent middle age.

Doreen had intuition. Everything she said was like a secret voice speaking straight out of my own bones.

I want to kill myself, to escape from responsiblity, to crawl abjectly back into the womb.