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"Are you hurt?""Absolutely," I said. "Especially in my everywhere."
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"Walking was not fast enough so we ran. Running was not fast enough, so we galloped. Galloping was not fast enough, so we sailed. Sailing was not fast enough, so we rolled merrily along on long metal tracks. Long metal tracks were not fast enough, so we drove. Driving was not fast enough, so we flew.Flying isn't fast enough, not fast enough for us. We want to get there faster. Get where? Wherever we are not. But a human soul can go only as fast as a man can walk, they used to say. In that case, where are all the souls? Left behind. They wander here and there, slowly, dim lights flickering in the marshes at night, looking for us. But they're not nearly fast enough, not for us, we're way ahead of them, they'll never catch up. That's why we can go so fast: our souls don't weigh us down."

"Hatred comes from the heart contempt from the head and neither feeling is quite within our control."

"I wish I didn't have to think about you. You wanted to impress me; well, I'm not impressed, I'm disgusted...You wanted to make damn good and sure I'd never be able to turn over in bed again without feeling that body beside me, not there but tangible, like a leg that's been cut off. Gone but the place still hurts."

"Enthusiasm is a supernatural serenity."

"I am a worried person with a stressed out soul, living a simple life with no capital."

"I have wished a bird would fly away,And not sing by my house all day;Have clapped my hands at him from the doorWhen it seemed as if I could bear no more.The fault must partly have been in me.The bird was not to blame for his keys.And of course there must be something wrongIn waiting to silence any song."

"Those things that take my breath away become the ocean-complex and deep-and I'm prone to drowning in beautiful things. Like you."
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"But it isn't a rough draft either. The one I turned in several months ago was rough. There were some bad plot holes, some logical inconsistencies, pacing problems, and not nearly enough lesbian unicorns."

"This is how deeply rooted stories are, folks. We crave them before we can walk, and we start telling them before we can talk."

"She took another step. The simple motion of her moving leg was like a dance, the unexaggerated shifting of her hip entrancing as a fire. The arch of her bare foot said more of sex than anything I'd seen in my young life."

"Congratulations, he said. "That was the stupidest thing I've ever seen." His expression was a mix of awe and disbelief. "Ever."

"He hesitated, then lifted his head and sniffed. "Have you been drinking? The question was more curious than accusatory. "No, Bast said. The innkeeper raised an eyebrow. "I've been tasting, Bast said, emphasizing the word. "Tasting comes before drinking."

"We know how it ends practically before it starts. That s why stories appeal to us. They give us the clarity and simplicity our real lives lack"."

"She taught me I should never do anything in private I did not want talked about in public, and cautioned me not to talk in my sleep."
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