I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root: It is what you fear. I do not fear it: I have been there.

I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now: This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one, And the white person is certainly the superior one. She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints. At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality- She lay in bed with me like a dead body And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints. I couldn't sleep for a week she was so cold.

God has to remind us this isn't heaven by a long shot, so he increases the radios and lethal flies.

It was sometime in October; she had long ago lost track of all the days and it really didn’t matter because one was like another and there were no nights to separate them because she never slept any more.

Perfection is terrible, it cannot have children.

I am sure there are things that can't be cured by a good bath but I can't think of one.

It was my first big chance, but here I was, sitting back and letting it run through my fingers like so much water.