“We'd been apart so long--I'd been dead so long," she said in English. "I thought surely you'd built a new life, with no room in it for me. I'd hoped that.""My life is nothing but room for you." I said. "It could never be filled by anyone but you.”

“My life is nothing but room for you,’ I said. ‘It could never be filled by anyone but you.”

“It was not the thought that I was so unloved that froze me. I had taught myself to do without love.It was not the thought that God was cruel that froze me. I had taught myself never to expect anything from Him.What froze me was the fact that I had absolutely no reason to move in any direction. What had made me move through so many dead and pointless years was curiosity.Now even that had flickered out.How long I stood frozen there, I cannot say. If I was ever going to move again, someone else was going to have to furnish the reason for moving.Somebody did.A policeman watched me for a while, and then he came over to me, and he said, "You alright?"Yes," I said.You've been standing here a long time," he said.I know," I said.You waiting for somebody?" he said.No," I said.Better move on, don't you think?" he said.Yes, sir," I said.And I moved on.”

“Eliza—” I said, “so many of the books I’ve read to you said love was the most important thing of all. Maybe I should tell you that I love you now.” “Go ahead,” she said. “I love you, Eliza,” I said. She thought about it. “No,” she said at last, “I don’t like it.” “Why not?” I said. ”It’s as though you were pointing a gun at my head,” she said. “It’s just a way of getting somebody to say something they probably don’t mean. What else can I say, or anybody say, but, ‘I love you, too’?”

“You were just babies then!", she said."What?" I said."You were just babies in the war - like the ones upstairs!"I nodded that this was true. We had been foolish virgins in the war, right at the end of childhood."But you're not going to write it that way, are you." This wasn't a question. It was an accusation."I-I don't know", I said."Well, I know," she said. "You'll pretend you were men instead of babies, and you'll be played in the movies by Frank Sinatra and John Wayne or some of those other glamorous, war-loving, dirty old men. And war will look just wonderful, so we'll have a lot more of them. And they'll be fought by babies like the babies upstairs."So then I understood. It was war that made her so angry. She didn't want her babies or anybody else's babies killed in wars. And she thought wars were partly encouraged by books and movies.So I held up my right hand and I made her a promise: "Mary," I said, "I don't think this book of mine will ever be finished. I must have written five thousand pages by now, and thrown them all away. If I ever do finish it, though, I give you my word of honor: there won't be a part for Frank Sinatra or John Wayne."I tell you what," I said, "I'll call it 'The Children's Crusade.'"She was my friend after that.”

“I didn't know then what a sperm was, and so wouldn't understand his answer for several years. "My boy," he said, "you are descended from a long line of determined, resourceful, microscopic tadpoles-- champions every one.”

“My gosh," I said, "another human being.""You'll never know how human," she said."Maybe I will," I said. "I could try."I did try, and I do try, and I give you the toast of a happy man: May the warm springs of the girl pool never run dry.--"Girl Pool”