“I will not go on, I thought. I won't. I will throw my soul to the wind and blow into a thousand pieces. I will wash up on a shore somewhere like bleached and broken driftwood. I will dry out in the sun until I-and any gift I ever had-shrivel into the sand.”
“Sometimes when I think of life, I feel like a piece of driftwood washed up on shore.”
“Now you wouldn't believe me if I told you, but I could run like the wind blows. From that day on, if I was ever going somewhere, I was running!”
“I am going to shrink and shrink until I am a dry fall leaf, complete with a translucent spine and brittle veins, blowing away in a stiff wind, up, up, up into a crisp blue sky.”
“I am forever walking upon these shores,Betwixt the sand and the foam,The high tide will erase my foot prints,And the wind will blow away the foam,But the sea and the shore will remain forever.”
“If I could take a pill to suck out my insides, shrivel me up into dried-out bones for dogs to cart away, I would do it. Right there.”