“Perhaps this is what I learned in the canyons: What I am, what I'm not, what I'll give, and what I won't.”
“I wake up thinking: What am I reading? What will I read next? I'm terrified that I'll run out, that I will read through all I want to, and be forced to learn wildflowers at last, to keep awake.”
“Perhaps my life is nothing but an image of this kind; perhaps I am doomed to retrace my steps under the illusion that I am exploring, doomed to try and learn what I simply should recognize, learning a mere fraction of what I have forgotten.”
“Who am I helping, what am I breaking, what am I giving, what am I taking?”
“If I need something you can't give, I need to walk away, because sooner or later, all I'll see is what you can't give. I won't be able to see what you can.”
“I'm smiling because I know perfectly well what I am and I honestly don't give a damn what you think of me”