“He was a precocious and delicate little boy, quivering with the malaise of being unloved. When we played, his child's heart would come into its own, and the troubled world where his vague hungers went unfed and mothers and fathers were dim and far away--too far away to ever reach in and touch the sore place and make it heal--would disappear, along with the world where I was not sufficiently muscled or sufficiently gallant to earn my own regard.”

“The artist's world is limitless. It can be found anywhere, far from where he lives or a few feet away. It is always on his doorstep. ”

“There was a game she had played with Sophie in the long hallways of Edgewood, where she and Sophie would stand as far apart as was possible to get and still see eachother. Then they would walk slowly and deliberately, looking always each at the other's face. They kept on, at the same pace, not laughing or trying not to, till their noses touched. It was like this with Smokey, though he had started from far off, too far to be seen, coming from the City – no farther, out there where she had never been, far away, walking towards her.”

“If the rest of the world fell away, along with everyone in it, I would survive if I still had him. But if he fell away, leaving behind the rest of the world, my heart would cease beating and my life would be over.”

“Me and my needs were driving my mother away. Me and my needs retreated to my closet, disappeared into fairy tales. I started making up a world where my needs wouldn´t exist at all.”

“so they went off together but where ever they go and whatever happens to themon the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the forest a little boy and his bear will always be playing.”