“I wrote these letters in the mornings before work, in the library, during my sessions of prolonged loitering in Commons, where I remained every evening until asked to leave by the janitor. It seemed my whole life was composed of these disjointed fractions of time, hanging around in one public place and then another, as if I were waiting for trains that never came. And, like one of those ghosts who are said to linger around depots late at night, asking passersby for the timetable of the Midnight Express that derailed twenty years before, I wandered from light to light until that dreaded hour when all the doors closed and, stepping from the world of warmth and people and conversation overheard, I felt the old familiar cold twist through my bones again and then it was all forgotten, the warmth, the lights; I had never been warm in my life, ever.”

“When everything around me is crumbling to pieces, all I have to do is look at you and I can keep going, keep living. You’re warm, Quinn. The warmest person I’ve ever known. I never realized just how devoid of warmth my life was until you came into it.”

“I’ve never been in those places where I’ve never been and never will be, I have no share in the infinity of light-years and dark-years, but the darkness is mine, and the light, and my time is my own. ”

“Time and again the sun sets like a bedimming curtain before my eyes, taking with it all illumination, warmth, and color.  I am overwhelmed by night and the monsters that lurk in shadows of despair.  But alas, stars twinkle from afar, shedding the tiniest rays of lighted hope.  I am reminded that the sun also rises and that morning's glory shall restore beauty to my world.  The realization of this dream is only a matter of waiting out the dreary night.  So, I shall persevere.”

“I had seen a dawn like this one only twice in my life: once in Vietnam, when a Bouncing Betty had risen from the earth on a night trail and twisted its tentacles of light around my thighs, and years earlier outside of Franklin, Louisiana, when my father and I discovered the body of a labor organizer who had been crucified with sixteen-penny nails, ankle and wrist, against a barn wall. - Sunset Limited”

“I am afraid that it will all be ruined. It is like stepping out into the darkness when one has a world of light and warmth behind one.”