“It is still news to her that passioncould steer her wrongthough she went down, a thousand timesstrung outacross railroad tracks, off bridgesunder cars, or stiffglass bottle still in hand, hair softon greasy pillows, still it isnews she cannot follow love (hisburning footsteps in blue crystalsnow) & stillcome out all right.”

“More or Less Love Poems #11:No babeWe'd neverSwing together butthe syncopationwould be something wild”

“In the fifties… we were so busy being cool that we didn’t know how to say the word love”

“The only war is the war against the imagination.”

“Two decades had passed, yet she still saw her parents' bloodied bodies in every shooting victim she treated.”

“Don't be afraid to make corrections! Whether the voice came from her memory or was a last whisper from the blinding new star far above, Nita never knew. But she knew what to do. While Kit was still on the first part of the name she pulled out her pen, her best pen that Fred had saved and changed. She clicked it open. The metal still tingled against her skin, the ink at the point still glittered oddly- the same glitter as the ink with which the bright Book was written. Nita bent quickly over the Book and with the pen, in lines of light, drew from the final circle an arrow pointing up-ward, the way out, the symbol that said change could happen- if, only if-”

“It was so unlike her not to be able to sleep. No matter what was going on, she was usually out the second her head hit the pillow.”