“If only there were a river of courage, - Rahel whispered. I would bend down, cup the water in my hand and drink.”

“I wish to cup knowledge in my hand and drink it as one drinks water by the side of the stream.”

“I could hear the knock and whistle of the water pipes, the purr of the calico cat. And at that moment a happiness filled me that was pure and perfect and yet it was bled with despair - as if I had been handed a cup of ambrosial nectar to drink from and knew that once I finished drinking, the cup would be withdrawn forever, and nothing to come would ever taste as good.”

“I imagine runningto the creek and diving in headfirst, the creek so shallow that my hands scrape against the rocks, and my bodyslides into the cold water, the shock of the cold giving way to numbness, and I would stay there, float down withthat water first to the Cahaba River, then to the Alabama River, then to Mobile Bay and the Gulf of Mexico.”

“With coarse grain to eat, with water to drink, and my bended arm for a pillow: I still have joy in the midst of these things”

“By the River Piedra I sat down and wept. There is a legend that everything that falls into the waters of this river -- leaves, insects, the feathers of birds -- is transformed into the rocks that make the riverbed. If only I could tear out my heart and hurl it into the current, then my pain and longing would be over, and I could finally forget.”