“What was true and solid begins to slide, dissolve.Your thoughts unravel faster than a satin ribbonWhose edge hasn't been burnedUntil you sit amidst a tangle of limp, pink threads,Unable to reasonAt all.”

“I'd found heaven and grabbed it as tightly as I could, but it was unraveling, an insubstantial thread sliding between my fingers, too fine to hold.”

“A tangle, you know, is more powerful than a single thread alone.”

“I wanted to pull the thread, unravel the scarf of my silence and start again from the beginning.”

“It was as if thousands and thousands of little roots and threads of consciousness in him and her had grown together into a tangled mass, till they could crowd no more, and the plant was dying. Now quietly, subtly, she was unravelling the tangle of his consciousness and hers, breaking the threads gently, one by one, with patience and impatience to get clear.”

“His soul's fabric was weaving itself with mine. I loved the frayed ends where it came unraveled, and I loved the strength at its firm, solid center.I loved every thread.”