I could displace the mystery of my speech onto writing, the latter perhaps recharging the former

I formed several possible stories out of her speech, formed them at once, so it was less like I failed to understand than that I understood in chords, understood in a plurality of worlds.

I had the endless day, months and months of endless days, and yet my return date bounded this sense of boundlessness, kept it from becoming threatening.

My experience of my body was her experience once removed, which meant my body was dissolved, and that’s all I’d ever really wanted from my body, such as it was.

Also, somehow, there doesn't seem to be any old-fashioned gender roles in place, or any gender roles at all. The priest who condemned me to the mob was a woman. I'll cheer for equality later.

The fingers on the windows leave traces on them

Evolution never looks to the future.

So that the lover of myths, which are a compact of wonders, is by the same token a lover of wisdom.

I have to say, that's pretty typical for artists, kind of embarrassingly typical for artists that everything is all about selection.

Russians don't take a dump, son, without a plan.

Does the cosmos contain keys for opening my diving bell? A subway line with no terminus? A currency strong enough to buy my freedom back? We must keep looking.

Know thyself. Nothing in excess. The Self is required to balance the Self.

I have found having my dad as my North Star has worked well for me.

Breaking up is a natural evolution when you try to figure out what you want in life.