“Would you like to watch TVor get between the sheetsand contemplate this violent freeway,would you like something to eatwould you like to learn to flywould ya, would you like to see me try”

“Do nothing that you would not like God to see. Say nothing you would not like God to hear. Write nothing you would not like God to read. Go no place where you would not like God to find you. Read no book of which you would not like God to say, "Show it to Me."Never spend your time in such a way that you would not like to have God say, "What are you doing?”

“Do you know what it was like all those years trying to get you to talk to me and you acting as if I was some sort of pariah, like I had done something so terrible that I was supposed to be banished somewhere you would never have to see me again?”

“Variation on the Word SleepI would like to watch you sleeping,which may not happen.I would like to watch you,sleeping. I would like to sleepwith you, to enteryour sleep as its smooth dark waveslides over my head.and walk with you through that lucentwavering forest of bluegreen leaveswith its watery sun & three moonstowards the cave where you must descend,towards your worst fearI would like to give you the silverbranch, the small white flower, the oneword that will protect youfrom the grief at the centerof your dream, from the griefat the center. I would like to followyou up the long stairwayagain & becomethe boat that would row you backcarefully, a flamein two cupped handsto where your body liesbeside me, and you enterit as easily as breathing inI would like to be the airthat inhabits you for a momentonly. I would like to be that unnoticed& that necessary.”

“Would you like me to turn over so you can see my other side?" Raphael asked. "Would you?" Roxy breathed hopefully.”

“I can see a sticker on the back of that truck! Would you like me to tell you what it says? I just want to be normal again! Like you!”