“Close, close all nightthe lovers keep.They turn togetherin their sleep,Close as two pagesin a bookthat read each otherin the dark.Each knows allthe other knows,learned by heartfrom head to toes.”

“But he sleeps on the top of his mastwith his eyes closed tight.The gull inquired into his dream,which was, "I must not fall.The spangled sea below wants me to fall.It is hard as diamonds; it wants to destroy us all.”

“Lullaby For the CatMinnow, go to sleep and dream,Close your great big eyes;Round your bed Events prepareThe pleasantest surprise.Darling Minnow, drop that frown,Just cooperate,Not a kitten shall be drownedIn the Marxist State.Joy and Love will both be yours,Minnow, don't be glum.Happy days are coming soon --Sleep, and let them come...”

“Dreams were the worst. Of course I dreamed of foodand love, but they were pleasant rather than otherwise. But then I'd dream of thingslike slitting a baby's throat, mistaking itfor a baby goat. I'd havenightmares of other islandsstretching away from mine, infinitiesof islands, islands spawning islands,like frogs' eggs turning into polliwogsof islands, knowing that I had to liveon each and every one, eventually,for ages, registering their flora,their fauna, their geography.”

“I leave a lovely opalescent ribbon: I know this.”

“ I am in need of music that would flowOver my fretful, feeling finger-tips,Over my bitter-tainted, trembling lips,With melody, deep, clear, and liquid-slow.Oh, for the healing swaying, old and low,Of some song sung to rest the tired dead,A song to fall like water on my head,And over quivering limbs, dream flushed to glow!There is a magic made by melody:A spell of rest, and quiet breath, and coolHeart, that sinks through fading colors deepTo the subaqueous stillness of the sea,And floats forever in a moon-green pool,Held in the arms of rhythm and of sleep. ”

“Each night he must be carried through artificial tunnels and dream recurrent dreams.Just as the ties recur beneath his train, these underlie his rushing brain. He does not dare look out the window, for the third rail, the unbroken draught of poison, runs there beside him. He regards it as a disease he has inherited the susceptibility to. He has to keep his hands in his pockets, as others must wear mufflers.”