“she’s mad, but she’s magic.”

“Yes?’ he asked, looking at me over the sheet.‘I’m a writer temporarily down on my inspirations.’‘Oh, a writer, eh?’‘Yes.’‘Are you sure?’‘No, I’m not.’‘What do you write?’‘Short stories mostly. And I’m halfway through a novel.’‘A novel, eh?’‘Yes.’‘What’s the name of it?’‘”The Leaky Faucet of My Doom.”‘‘Oh, I like that. What’s it about?’‘Everything.’‘Everything? You mean, for instance, it’s about cancer?’‘Yes.’‘How about my wife?’‘She’s in there too.”

“‎"she’ mad but she’magic. there’ no lie in her fire.”

“The whole scene was indecent, mad. It smacked of murder and assassination.”

“It is possible to be truly mad and to still exist upon scraps of life.”

“magic persists without usno matter what we may do to try to spoil it”

“I had noticed that both in the very poor and very rich extremes of society the mad were often allowed to mingle freely.”