“If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.A crumb of cake would be a feastAnd last you seven days at least,A flea would be a frightening beastIf you were one inch tall.If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,And it would take about a month to get down to the store.A bit of fluff would be your bed,You'd swing upon a spider's thread,And wear a thimble on your headIf you were one inch tall.You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.You'd run from people's feet in fright,To move a pen would take all night,(This poem took fourteen years to write--'Cause I'm just one inch tall).”

“Why is it that only in the very beginnings of a relationship are you aware of the heat coming from inside a person, of the number of inches you would have to move for your shoulders to brush as if it were an accident?”

“i would court you with passion, if things were different. you'd never get me off your porch swing. ”

“You go about your business, as far away from these lines as possible, pretending they're not there. So when you eventually find yourself at one of these lines, your toe inching over, it's not only shocking and horrifying, it's banal. Because you've always been aware the lines were there, where you were trying with all your might not to see them, knowing that sooner or later you would.”

“Each unto himself has his own world that he looks out upon, and though someone else were to stand on the very selfsame inch of ground your feet were placed upon, guided by chalk marks, he would not see the same things you did.”

“If you were mine, I would never be able to walk away from you. If you were mine, I'd worship every inch of your body with my hands, lips, and tongue. If you were mine, I wouldn’t be able to stand in the same room as you without running my hands over your skin and tasting your lips. If you were mine…”