“There is no thing that with a twist of the imagination cannot be something else. Porpoises risen in a green sea, the wind at nightfall bending the rose- red grasses and you- in your apron hurrying to catch- say it seems to you to be your son. How ridiculous! You will pass up into a cloud and look back at me, not count the scribbling foolish that put wings at your heels, at your knees.”

“Your thighs are appletrees. Your knees are a southern breeze.”

“Your thighs are apple trees. Your knees are the southern breeze.”

“You lethargic, waiting upon me,waiting for the fire and Iattendant upon you, shaken by your beautyShaken by your beauty Shaken.”

“You're a romanticist. What do you think a man is, a papaya? To digest your dinner? In pill form?”

“The HurricaneThe tree lay downon the garage roof and stretched, You have your heaven, it said, go to it.”

“Hold back the edges of your gown, Ladies, we are going through hell.”