“She hops expectantly into the sink. I turn on the tap for her; she laps without a glance in my direction, like a duchess so used to being ministered to that she no longer notices the servants and sees only a world where objects dumbly bend to her wishes, doors opening, faucets discharging cool water, delicious things appearing in her dish.”

“In the middle of my depression, somebody told me about a self-helpgroup for people who wanted to persue personal visions, and I thoughtthat might be just the thing for me, since I no longer had any. So Iwent to this Goals Meeting. It was in an Episcopal church in the leafysuburbs, and when I walked inside, a nice lady was explaing that herGoal was to get out of debt and buy a pony for her little daughter. Then this other fellow got up to share. He was a white boy in adashiki. He said, "My name is Ira and I have a Goal. Right now I'munemployed and in debt and I'm living with my parents, who don'tunderstand me at all. But my faith in this program is so huge that Iknow that one year from today I'm going to be traveling across theUnited States with my Spirit Guide. My Spirit Guide is going to be awhile malamute dog named Isis. I mean, I know this as clearly as I'veknown anything in my life. My Goal is for Isis to guide me to thehomes of my favorite self-help authoers. Isis is going to take me tomeet John Bradshaw and Louise Hay and M. Scott Peck, and I'm going toget them to mentor me!" He kind of bellowed this. And I wasn't surewhether Ira was exactly what John Bradshaw and Louise Hay and M. ScottPeck deserved or whether I hoped they kept shotguns in their homes. Iwas honestly torn.”

“I had a sudden understanding of tattooing's true appeal: It'sTroll-collecting for biker types.”

“The philosopher Berkley claimed that everything in the universeexists solely as a thought in the mind of God. In response to thisSamuel Johnson is supposed to have kicked a stone and said, "I refusehim thus!" Nowhere is it written that Johnson stubbed his toe when he kickedthat stone. But he probably did and it probably hurt.”

“...most people would rather feel guilty than feel helpless. ”

“Around a child, people come and go, objects appear and are taken away, surroundings take shape and disintegrate. And no explanation is given, because how can you explain the world to a child?So she had used the words. Words call forth and secure that which has gone away. With her lists she had ensured that whatever she had once known would come back”

“Lucinda might sneak from her own house at midnight to place a wager somewhere else, but she dared not touch the pack that lay in her own sideboard. She knew how passionate he had become about his 'weakness.' She dared not even ask him how it was he had reversed his opinions on the matter. But, oh, how she yearned to discuss it with him, how much she wished to deal a hand on a grey wool blanket. There would be no headaches then, only this sweet consummation of their comradeship.But she said not a word. And although she might have her 'dainty' shoes tossed to the floor, have her bare toes quite visible through her stockings, have a draught of sherry in her hand, in short appear quite radical, she was too timid, she thought, too much a mouse, to reveal her gambler's heart to him. She did not like this mouselike quality. As usual, she found herself too careful, too held in.Once she said: 'I wish I had ten sisters and a big kitchen to laugh in.'Her lodger frowned and dusted his knees.She thought: He is as near to a sister as I am likely to get, but he does not understand.She would have had a woman friend so they could brush each other's hair, and just, please God, put aside this great clanking suit of ugly armor.She kept her glass dreams from him, even whilst she appeared to talk about them. He was an admiring listener, but she only showed him the opaque skin of her dreams--window glass, the price of transporting it, the difficulties with builders who would not pay their bills inside six months. He imagined this was her business, and of course it was, but all the things she spoke of were a fog across its landscape which was filled with such soaring mountains she would be embarrassed to lay claim to them. Her true ambition, the one she would not confess to him, was to build something Extraordinary and Fine from glass and cast iron. A conservatory, but not a conservatory. Glass laced with steel, spun like a spider web--the idea danced around the periphery of her vision, never long enough to be clear. When she attempted to make a sketch, it became diminished, wooden, inelegant. Sometimes, in her dreams, she felt she had discovered its form, but if she had, it was like an improperly fixed photograph which fades when exposed to daylight. She was wise enough, or foolish enough, to believe this did not matter, that the form would present itself to her in the end.”