Jealousy can open the blood, it can make black roses.

I want to become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted.

Outcast on a cold star, unable to feel anything but an awful helpless numbness. I look down into the warm, earthy world. Into a nest of lovers' beds, baby cribs, meal tables, all the solid commerce of life in this earth, and feel apart, enclosed in a wall of glass.

Is there no way out of the mind?

You know what lies are for.

I had been alone more than I could have been had I gone by myself.

To look at her, you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying, at her own stupidities and luckiness, and at the strange enigmatic ways of the world which she will spend lifetime trying to learn and understand.