“Need is not quite belief.”

“But I can't. Need is not quite belief.”

“Death, I need my little addiction to you. I need that tiny voice who, even as I rise from the sea, all woman, all there, says kill me, kill me.”

“Love? Be it man. Be it woman.It must be a wave you want to glide in on,give your body to it, give your laugh to it,give, when the gravelly sand takes you,your tears to the land. To love another is somethinglike prayer and can't be planned, you just fallinto its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.”

“And tonight our skin, our bones,that have survived our fathers,will meet, delicate in the hold,fastened together in an intricate lock.Then one of us will shout,"My need is more desperate!" andI will eat you slowly with kisseseven though the killer in youhas gotten out.”

“And if I triedto give you something else,something outside myself,you would not knowthat the worst of anyonecan be, finally,an accident of hope”

“I am your dwarf.I am the enemy within.I am the boss of your dreams.See. Your hand shakes.It is not palsy or booze.It is your Doppelgangertrying to get out.Beware...Beware...”