“During the four days of the storm, I became accustomed to the soft light of lamps and candles and grew to like it. When the power came on again, I discovered that I was actually disappointed. The electric lights seemed cold and impersonal; they revealed too much.”

“The storm had caused the power to go out; the streets were buried in a liquid darkness speckled here and there with the light cast by oil lamps or candles from balconies and doors.”

“When I was drowning, she became my air. In the cold, she became my warmth. In the dark, she became my light.”

“Just at present you only see the tree by the light of the lamp. I wonder when you would ever see the lamp by the light of the tree.”

“I love metaphors and she has come up with the idea of lighting candles to symbolize my past, present, and future. My past and present were the two candles we started with; she would ask me what I would like to start with or deal with today. I would light up either my past or my present depending on the answer. During the last few sessions we've used the candles I've noticed my past melting more and more and becoming duller and duller in light.”

“Days to come stand in front of uslike a row of lighted candles—golden, warm, and vivid candles. Days gone by fall behind us,a gloomy line of snuffed-out candles;the nearest are smoking still,cold, melted, and bent. I don’t want to look at them: their shape saddens me,and it saddens me to remember their original light.I look ahead at my lighted candles. I don’t want to turn for fear of seeing, terrified,how quickly that dark line gets longer,how quickly the snuffed-out candles proliferate.”