“A nothing day full ofwild beauty....Little fish stream by, a river in water. ”
“Looking at the sky last night and the moon in the first fresh dark, just a few stars, bright with their cold flares, I had a little crumpled thought, 'Oh well, the moon. It's just another place like California.' One's imagination drags its feet as we are inexorably hauled into the future.”
“I wish i could press snowflakes in a book like flowers.”
“He unfixes the metal notch and slips his hand around the body of the bird. Feels its heat, its small heart beating. He stares at the bird's bright orange eyes. Like the color of the bird's wings in the painting. Or the small touch of lichen on the rock by the Japanese woman's foot. Natalia did not truly see the painting. Is it excitement of the unknown that pulled her away, or despair? He know the answer. He returns the bird to its cage, pulls out a piece of paper from his pocket, and writes, Paris Will lose, but there is a woman who will fight without fear because she believes she has already lost everything. [pp. 1722-173]”
“Hanne is stretched out on her back. Faces hover in a circle above her. A boy with big blue eyes. A woman whose front teeth rest on her lower lip. An old Chinese woman wearing all gray, herface expressionless, as if she’s seen this before, and much worse. Suddenly a man’s face zooms toward her. Beads of sweat on his upper lip. Dark sideburns. Dark nose hairs. His eyes are close-set,unnervingly so. “Don’t move,” he says, his breath reeking of garlic and cigarette smoke.An imperative. She tries to sit up, and when she can’t, attempts to understand why she’s on the floor. This is notwhere she should be. She knows that. What is she doing here? “She’s bleeding . . . Hurt. A woman.” But nothing hurts. Liquid streams from her nose, down her cheek, pools into her ear. The circle of faces still above her. But she can’t right herself. Theworld is tilting. The man with sideburns is squatting beside her.What does he want? He’s saying something to her. Telling hersomething, his horrible breath assaulting her. Get back. She can’tget her mouth to shout, Move back! She hunts for that perfect moment again, the water, her children when they were young, Hiro, but it is gone.”
“There is no way to be truly great in this world. We are impaled on the crook of conditioning. A fish that is in the water has no choice that he is. Genius would have it that we swim in sand. We are fish and we drown.”
“Jesus got up one day a little later than usual. He had been dreaming so deep there was nothing left in his head. What was it? A nightmare, dead bodies walking all around him, eyes rolled back, skin falling off. But he wasn't afraid of that. It was a beautiful day. How 'bout some coffee? Don't mind if I do. Take a little ride on my donkey, I love that donkey. Hell, I love everybody.”