“Can I be blamed for wanting a real body, to put my arms around? Without it I too am disembodied. I can listen to my own heartbeat against the bedsprings...but there’s something dead about it, something deserted.”

“You cold?' He chafes my arms. I haven't been cold since I moved here. This is something else. 'No. But you can put your arms around me anyway.”

“I am trying like Klee, to create something that will have a life of its own, that can put me in real danger, a danger which I willingly take on myself.”

“I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don't want to them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it, too. I want them to be able to do whatever they want around me. And if they do something I don't like, I'll tell them.”

“I love body language, because I can speak it without talking, without listening, and while my back is turned.”

“There is warmth shooting through my broken body where there should be pain, and I put my arms around the back of his neck and I hold on to him. I hold on because you never know in this place when something good will be taken away.”