Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.

What did my fingers do before they held him? What did my heart do, with its love?

I don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.

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

Secretly, in studies and attics and schoolrooms all over America, people must be writing.

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

..I fancied you'd return the way you said, But I grow old and I forget your name. (I think I made you up inside my head.) I should have loved a thunderbird instead; At least when spring comes they roar back again. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. (I think I made you up inside my head.)