“I’d Poe’s nude for the approval of a dead poet. No names come to mind, but I’m sure there must be one I’d get naked for.”

“Sometimes I’d get mad because things didn’t work out so well, I’d spoil a flapjack, or slip in the snowfield while getting water, or one time my shovel went sailing down into the gorge, and I’d be so mad I’d want to bite the mountaintops and would come in the shack and kick the cupboard and hurt my toe. But let the mind beware, though the flesh be bugged, the circumstances of existence are pretty glorious.”

“I’d hang a walrus on my wall, and I’d name him Russ. But I’m not a hunter—I’m a lover and a fisherman. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, if you want to take off your pants and wash up.”

“I’m glad I don’t have any foreskin, because at a nude beach I’d feel overdressed. (It’d be the only time I could feel overdressed by showing too much skin).”

“I’m a coward, January. I’m not sure if I can handle another heartbreak and I know if I fell for you, I’d fall so hard there’d be no coming back from it. You’re extraordinary.”

“Surely I must be a princess in an enchanted sleep. Any day now, this dream-no, nightmare would end, and I’d get my prince and happy ending.”