“I had a fierce headache and (my parents’) soft conversation was like a light rain falling on the hot roof of my head.”

“I shake my head and the tiny acrobats fall like spangles, like the cool rain on another planet, down to the inside of my feet.”

“It’s been raining outside and I feel like a sad poet, hating my imagination pissing on the roof.”

“We lay side by side on the extension roof, hands behind our heads, elbows just touching. My head was still spinning a little, not unpleasantly, from the dancing and the wine. The breeze was warm across my face, and even through the city lights I could see constellations: the Big Dipper, Orion's Belt. The pine tree at the bottom of the garden rustled like the sea, ceaselessly. For a moment I felt as if the universe had turned upside down and we were falling softly into an enormous black bowl of stars and nocturne, and I knew, beyond any doubt, that everything was going to be all right.”

“I threw back my head, my hair falling about me like a great red curtain, and cried out.  My eyes felt hot and burned with tears as my body trembled with the passion for blood. ”

“It's like a switch, clickin' off in my head. Turns the hot light off and the cool one on, and all of a sudden there's peace.”