He Wished He Had Some Kind Of

She Didn't Love Him And He Didn't Love Her; She Was Like An Addiction, And What They Were Doing Had A Darkness To It, A Weight.

It's Good To Be In Love.

Norah Looked At Her Son’s Tiny Face, Surprised, As Always, By His Name. He Had Not Grown Into It Yet, He Still Wore It Like A Wrist Band, Something That Might Easily Slip Off And Disappear. She Had Read About People – Where? She Could Not Remember This Either – Who Refused To Name Their Children For Several Weeks, Feeling Them To Be Not Yet Of The Earth, Suspended Still Between Two Worlds.

The Lake Of Dreams Grew Gradually, Over Many Years, Elements And Ideas Accruing Until They Gained Enough Critical Mass To Become A Novel.

Then She Had Been A Fiancee, A Young Wife, And A Mother, And She Had Discovered That These Words Were Far Too Small Ever To Contain The Experience.