The wind is us-- it gathers and remembers all our voices, then sends them talking and telling through the leaves and the fields.

Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.

Then why does Kenneth Anger wear a picture locket on a chain around his neck? On one side of the locket there is a picture of you; on the other there is an image of a frog with an inscription: "Bobby Beausoleil changed into a frog by Kenneth Anger." A voodoo amulet, so to say.

Many universities have asked me to come for a semester but I don't want to do it because I don't have the patience.

The instant she saw the letter she squinted her eyes and bent her lips in a tough tiny smile that advanced her age immeasurably. "Darling," she instructed me, "would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn't read this sort of thing without her lipstick.

I guess if you're that thin and that small you don't need to take up too much space or breathe that much air. You just keep on going.

It may be normal, darling; but I'd rather be natural.