“. . . The senses reign, and reason now is dead;from one pleasing desire comes another.Virtue, honor, beauty, gracious bearing,sweet words have caught me in her lovely branchesin which my heart is tenderly entangled.In thirteen twenty-seven, and preciselyat the first hour of the sixth of AprilI entered the labyrinth, and I see no way out.”

“There's no such thing as a tough child - if you parboil them first for seven hours, they always come out tender.”

“One and two and three and four and five and six…”Oh, God don’t let me hurt him.“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Am I really doing this? Here? Is this real?“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen…”We’re in the middle of nowhere. No one is going to find us. Even the fire has gone out.“…and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”He’s dead. I’m just beating on his body.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three and twenty-four…”My arms hurt. How can my arms hurt now? Blake. I can’t. I can’t be here without you.“…and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”The next step was simple: cover his mouth and fill his lungs with air. Breathe into him with life’s breath. Livia did so, licked her lips, and started compressions again.“And one and two and three and four and five and six and seven…”I’ve got to be positive. I have to know he’ll make it.“…and eight and nine and ten and eleven and twelve and thirteen and fourteen…”We’re going to grow old together, Blake. We’re going to hold hands and kiss.“…and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and nineteen…”I’m giving you all my energy. All this love and hope. It’s going from my heart to yours, through my hands.“…and twenty and twenty-one and twenty-two and twenty-three…”Feel it, Blake. Feel it.“…and twenty-four and twenty-five and twenty-six and twenty-seven…”I love you so much. I’m going to love you forever. Can you feel that, Blake?“…and twenty-eight and twenty-nine and thirty.”Livia leaned down, repositioned Blake’s head, and filled his lungs twice more. As she put her hands on his chest to keep her rhythm, she looked down at his face, at his skin.“And one and two and three and four and five and six…”Am I imagining that? Your skin?“…and seven and eight and nine and ten and eleven…”Blake! Blake, your skin! It’s just like glass, Blake. You’re really sparkling. I can see it. I can really see it. Your skin is amazing!Livia’s tears landed on her hard-pumping hands. Nothing would stop her from beating Blake’s heart for him now. Nothing. Not even the sound of people crashing through the woods.“…and twelve and thirteen and fourteen and fifteen and sixteen and seventeen…”You’re glistening, Blake. I’ll never stop. I’ll never stop.”

“In a word, literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet, gracious discourse of my book-friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness. The things I have learned and the things I have been taught seem of ridiculously little importance compared with their "large loves and heavenly charities.”

“Literature is my Utopia. Here I am not disenfranchised. No barrier of the senses shuts me out from the sweet, gracious discourses of my book friends. They talk to me without embarrassment or awkwardness.”

“There are two men in me--one lives in the full sense of the word, the other reasons and passes judgment on the first. The first will perhaps take leave of you and the world forever in an hour now; and the second . . . the second?”