“I can't believe anyone would voluntarily run 26 miles. Sometimes I sit on the couch cross-legged because I don't feel like walking to the bathroom.”
“Most horses don't walk backwards voluntarily, because what they can't see doesn't exist.”
“But I can hardly sit still. I keep fidgeting, crossing one leg and then the other. I feel like I could throw off sparks, or break a window--maybe rearrange all the furniture.”
“It was like living in a new house. I saw the undersides of tables, walked through the tangle of chair legs. It would be good to be a dog, I thought. You would feel safe surrounded by all of these leggy objects that never tried to run away.”
“I don't like futons. They can't commit. I'm a bed! I'm a couch! I'm a bed! I'm a couch!”
“I could feel my anger dissipating as the miles went by--you can't run and stay mad!”