“The night kept coming on in and there was nothing I could do.”

“It was one of those rare nights when I was kept awake not by my nightmares and anxieties but by something exciting and exhilarating. Most nights I lay awake waiting for some unexpected disaster…I think I somehow felt that as long as I was conscious, nothing bad could happen…”

“If one thing was perfectly, crystalline clear, it was that I could take care of myself. I just kept coming and coming and coming. I was what I was.”

“I lie on the floor, washed by nothing and hanging on. I cry at night. I am afraid of hearing voices, or a voice. I have come to the edge, of the land. I could get pushed over.”

“I lived for the night, because I could go over to your house. It was the only thing that kept me going. You were the only thing, actually. It was… you.”

“But as long as he kept on caring, nothing could touch the freedom of his inner thoughts.”