“That was in Crescent City, California, up near the Oregon border. I left soon after. But today I was thinking of that place, of Crescent City, and of how I was trying out a new life there with my wife, and how, in the barber's chair that morning, I had made up my mind to go. I was thinking today about the calm I felt when I closed my eyes and let the barber's fingers move through my hair, the sweetness of those fingers, the hair already starting to grow.”

“At leastI want to get up early one more morning,before sunrise. Before the birds, even.I want to throw cold water on my faceand be at my work tablewhen the sky lightens and smokebegins to rise from the chimneysof the other houses.I want to see the waves breakon this rocky beach, not just hear thembreak as I did in my sleep.I want to see again the shipsthat pass through the Strait from everyseafaring country in the world -old, dirty freighters just barely moving along,and the swift new cargo vesselspainted every color under the sunthat cut the water as they pass.I want to keep an eye out for them.And for the little boat that pliesthe water between the shipsand the pilot station near the lighthouse.I want to see them take a man off the shipand put another one up on board.I want to spend the day watching this happenand reach my own conclusions.I hate to seem greedy - I have so much to be thankful for already.But I want to get up early one more morning, at least. And go to my place with some coffee and wait.Just wait, to see what's going to happen.”

“There was a time when I thought I loved my first wife more than life itself. But now I hate her guts. I do. How do you explain that? What happened to that love? What happened to it, is what I'd like to know. I wish someone could tell me.”

“I could hear my heart beating. I could hear everyone's heart. I could hear the human noise we sat there making, not one of us moving, not even when the room went dark.”

“The places where water comes together with other water. Those places stand out in my mind like holy places.”

“I've crossed some kind of invisible line. I feel as if I've come to a place I never thought I'd have to come to. And I don't know how I got here. It's a strange place. It's a place where a little harmless dreaming and then some sleepy, early-morning talk has led me into considerations of death and annihilation.”

“What's that sound?" Fran said. Then something as big as a vulture flapped heavily down from one of the trees and landed just in front of the car.It shook itself.It turned its long neck toward the car, raised its head, and regarded us. "Goddamn it," I said.I sat there with my hands on the wheel and stared at the thing. "Can you believe it?" Fran said."I never saw a real one before." We both knew it was a peacock, sure,but we didn't say the word out loud.We just watched it.The bird turned its head up in the air and made this harsh cry again.It had fluffed itself out and looked about twice the size it'd been when it landed. "Goddamn," I said again. We stayed where we were in the front seat. The bird moved forward a little.Then it turned its head to the side and braced itself.It kept its bright, wild eye right on us.Its tail was raised, and it was like a big fan folding in and out.There was every color in the rainbow shining from that tail."My God," Fran said quietly.She moved her hand over to my knee. "Goddamn," I said. There was nothing else to say. The bird made this strange wailing sound once more. "May- awe, may-awe!" it went.If it'd been something I was hearing late at night and for the first time, I'd have thought it was somebody dying, or else something wild and dangerous.”