“And my Black bird, still not quitting, still is sitting, still is sittingOn that pallid bust -- still flitting through my dolorous domain;But it cannot stop from gazing for it truly finds amazingThat, by artful paraphrasing, I such rhyming can sustain--Notwithstanding my lost symbol I such rhyming still sustain--Though I shan't try it again!”

“Travel, trouble, music, art, a kiss, a frock, a rhyme --I never said they feed my heart, but still they pass my time.”

“And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor:And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore!”

“...but I still think that one of the pleasantest of all emotions is to know that I, I with my brain and my hands, have nourished my beloved few, that I have concocted a stew or a story, a rarity or a plain dish, to sustain them truly against the hungers of the world.”

“I have walked myself into my best thoughts and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it...but by sitting still, and the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill.”

“I'm still upset with my mother, though. And scared.If you lose me, I remember her saying when I was little and we'd go to a department store, just let one of those salesladies know, and they will take you to where I can find you. Even though I'm seventeen, I guess I still thought this would always be true-- that there would always be that lost-and-found, and not the lost-and-still-lost that I am now trapped inside.”