“I realize the blackness of sleep is circling my head. It's been there a while, biding its time and growing closer with each revolution. I give up on rage, which at this point has become a formality, and make a mental note to get angry in the morning.”

“I cling to my anger with every ounce of humanity left in my ruined body, but it's no use. It slips away, like a wave from shore. I am pondering this sad fact when I realize the blackness of sleep is circling my head. It's been there awhile, biding its time and growing closer with each revolution. I give up on rage, which at this point has become a formality, and make a mental note to get angry again in the morning. Then I let myself drift, because there's really no fighting it.”

“THERE IT IS,’ my mother says, and what she means is that the dot we’ve been nearing for weeks, the one that’s been growing into a larger dot with two smaller dots circling it, has now become even larger than that, growing from a dot to a disc, shining back the light from its sun, until you can see the blue of its oceans, the green of its forests, the white of its polar caps, a circle of colour against the black beyond.”

“There it is again, right in my head, I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME -But this time it's different -There's a lightness -A breath-stealing feeling -A weightlessness to it that makes my stomach rise -"I give you a gift," he says, his voice floating thru my head like a cloud on fire. "The same gift I've given to my captains. Use it. Use it to defeat me. I dare you."I look into his eyes, into the blackness of them, the blackness that swallows me whole -I AM THE CIRCLE AND THE CIRCLE IS ME.And that's all I can hear in the whole world.”

“I wake up exhausted it's not morning. It's back to sleep to re-dream me. We're alone and we're happy. But there you are, angry with me”

“I was never big on rage.' 'Why?' "It's so much more angry in my head than it could ever be outside.”