“I don’t know what they are called, the spaces between seconds– but I think of you always in those intervals.”

“You don’t know how to converse. Sometimes I think the spaces between the stars are filled with your silence.”

“Vast spaces of nature; the Atlantic Ocean, the South Sea; vast intervals of time, years, centuries, are of no account. This which I think and feel, underlay that former state of life and circumstances, as it does underlie my present, and will always circumstance, and what is called life, and what is called death.”

“I need to call it a night. But only because I don’t know what else to call it. What’s in between evening and morning?”

“Imagination is what I have when I'm on my own. Pretending is what I do in the world. There's a space in between those two spaces, maybe like the space between life and death, but it's hard to navigate, and even harder to understand. Then again, I sometimes think that maybe that's just the way life is, and what I've been searching for is something different.”

“Otter says nothing and as I turn to look at him, he’s watching me, that gold-green shining with that regard that always leaves me breathless. I don’t know what he’s thinking right now. I don’t think I want to know. Are you sure? the voice in my head asks. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to know?]”