“Lie there panning, looking, all ribs and elbows and dilated eyes. The awake floor is littered with gear and dirty clothes, blond hardwood with sealed seams, two throw-rugs, the bare waxed wood shiny in the windows' snowlight, the floor neutral, faceless, you cannot see any face in the floor, awake, lying there, faceless, blank, dilated, playing beam over floor again and again, not sure all night forever unsure you're not missing something that's right there: you lie there, awake and almost twelve, believing with all your might.”

“Whatever it was, it was something you could dance to, or lie down on the floor, close your eyes, and weep to.”

“Nothing like poetry when you lie awake at night. It keeps the old brain limber. It washes away the mud and sand that keeps on blocking up the bends.Like waves to make the pebbles dance on my old floors. And turn them into rubies and jacinths; or at any rate, good imitations.”

“You're not drunk if you can lie on the floor without holding on.”

“You look at the floor and see the floor. I look at the floor and see molecules.”

“Birds-eye view Awake the stars 'cause they're all around youWide eyes will always brighten the blueChase your dreams And remember me, sweet bravery'Cause after all those wings will take you up so highSo bid the forest floor goodbye as you race the windAnd take to the sky”