“StillIn the fall, I believe again in poetryif nothing else it isa movement of the mind.Summers ball togetherinto sticky lumps,spring evenings are glass beads from one mouldfor standard-size youth,winter a smooth heaviness, not even cold.But the mind trembleshere, on the brinkthe mind tremblesthere is life, after all,there is life, stillunbelief left.”

“She thanked God that life was not always winter, that spring always came at last to chase away the cold and heaviness, and to release one to warmth and movement again.”

“I think again about the Tree of Life. A wonderful notion that we as people are all stemmed and thrive from a tree springing life from branches reaching out to help our blood flow and providing oxygen to breathe.”

“I don't see why human people make such a heavy trip out of sex. It isn't anything complex, it is simply the best thing in life, even better than food.”

“[Baseball] breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall all alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops.”

“...I pray this winter be gentle and kind - a season of rest from the wheel of the mind...”

“I ask God to bind my life to your life so that my mind will be one with your mind," I repeat the words Phaedrus says while I gaze at Reed and hold his hand. "My heart may be one with your heart," I recite it with a small smile on my face, "and my body may be one with your body," I blush a little when I say this part, seeing desire register in Reed's eyes. "From this moment through eternity, so let it be.”