“The idea began to sink in, more than it ever had, that I might be crazy, in the traditional sense of the word. That I might be, forever and ever amen, a Crazy Person. That's what we'd suspected all along, what I'd been working so hard to disprove, what might be true. I preferred, by far, being dead.”

“Being crazy of someone might seem cheap, but what if your life is priceless without that person.”

“I never thought there might be one like you out there. Unaware, untrained.Unbelievable. You have no idea what you are, do you?”“Crazy?”

“What if all I'd ever known was how it had been for the past three years - me being an unwanted outsider in my own family?I might have turned out like Aphrodite, and I might still be letting my parents control me because I was hoping desperately that I would be good enough, make them proud, so that some day they would really love me.”

“I wondered whether music might not be the unique example of what might have been - if the invention of language, the formation of words, the analysis of ideas had not intervened - the means of communication between souls.”

“But they made me realize more than I ever had the rarity of true originality, and also the sort of alienation it might involve.”