We, Her Children, Are Heroic, Dersperate.

Madness Is Like Intelligence, You Know. You Can't Explain It. Just Like Intelligence. It Comes On You, It Fills You, And Then You Understand It. But When It Goes Away You Can't Understand It At All Any Longer.

The Words Emerge From Her Body Without Her Realizing It, As If She Were Being Visited By The Memory Of A Language Long Forsaken.

I Have Never Waited For Anything The Way I've Waited For Today, When Nothing Will Happen.

Very Early In My Life It Was Too Late.

Oh, How Good It Is To Be With Someone, Sometimes.