“TO what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots. Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.”

“Prove to me that you are not a figment of my imagination.Am I a computer simulation?Does the door swing both ways?How can something come from nothing? How do you know a line is straight?If animals wanted to be eaten, would it be okay?If time stopped then stared again, would we know about it?What happens when you get scared half to death twice?What is creationism?What is ethical?”

“Only you could be more important than what I wanted...what I needed. What I want and what I need is to be with you, and I know I'll never be strong enough to leave again.”

“What can be feared when one is doing one's duty? I know the rage of my enemies. I know all their slanders; but when one only tries to do good to men and when one does not offend heaven, one can fear nothing, neither during life nor after death.”

“It does no good to run. And it does no good to hide. But I know what it's like. Your brain shuts down, and you follow your instincts. Or, at least, you think you do. But you know what you're really doing? When you flee through the night, or crawl into your little bolt-hole? You know what's really guiding you? Controlling you? Pushing you on? Genre conventions.”

“I know the bottom, she says. I know it with my great tap root:It is what you fear.I do not fear it: I have been there.--from "Elm", written 19 April 1962”