“As reason returned to me, memory came with it, and I saw that even on the worst days, when I thought I was utterly and completely miserable, I was nevertheless, and nearly all the time, extremely happy. That gave me something to think about. The discovery was not a pleasant one. It seemed to me that I was losing a great deal. I asked myself, wasn't I sad, hadn't I felt my life breaking up? Yes, that had been true; but each minute, when I stayed without moving in a corner of the room, the cool of the night and the stability of the ground made me breathe and rest on gladness.”

“When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d,And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy,But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,When I wander’d alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy,O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well,And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me,And his arm lay lightly around my breast – and that night I was happy.”

“I went to a tattoo parlor and had YES written onto the palm of my left hand, and NO onto my right palm, what can I say, it hasn't made my life wonderful, its made life possible, when I rub my hands against each other in the middle of winter I am warming myself with the friction of YES and NO, when I clap my hands I am showing my appreciation through the uniting and parting of YES and NO, I signify "book" by peeling open my hands, every book, for me, is the balance of YES and NO, even this one, my last one, especially this one. Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn't the world, it wasn't the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.”

“When something is right you just feel it - and I definitely felt it, my whole body felt it. He was the one for me. The one that would drive me crazy and make me laugh even when I was sad. He was the one I wanted to hold me when I cried, the one I wanted to call when I had happy news. He was just the one.”

“After a time, I had only a handful of words left... Does it break my heart, of course, every moment of every day, into more pieces than my heart was made of, I never thought of myself as quiet, much less silent, I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn't the world, it wasn't the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, the cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.”

“As for myself, the part of me that still believes that I was given up because there was something wrong with me will diminish with the passage of time. But I feel sad when I think about all those years of not really knowing the truth. Would it have made me feel better about myself if I had known my story? Or would it still have taken me this long to understand what it all meant?”