“In the widely open cup of the armchair was I-330. I, on the floor, embracing her limbs, my head on her lap. We were silent. Everything was silent. Only the pulse was audible. Like a crystal I was dissolving in her, in I-330. I felt most distinctly how the polished facets which limited me in space were slowly thawing, melting away. I was dissolving in her lap, in her, and I became at once smaller and larger, and larger, unembraceable. For she was not she but the whole universe. For a second I and that armchair near the bed, transfixed with joy, we were one.”

“I want to go back to the tell-me-again times when I slept in her bed and we were everything together. When I was everything to her. Everything she needed.”

“Penelope screamed incoherently in Erik’s tight embrace. Kaliope sat on her heels, rocking back and forth, silent. Her eyes were wide open, unblinking. She was silent”

“I loved her; we were happy; I miss her. She didn't love me; we were unhappy; I miss her.”

“For she was a child, throwing bread to the ducks, between her parents who stood by the lake, holding her life in her arms which, as she neared them, grew larger and larger in her arms, until it became a whole life, a complete life, which she put down by them and said, "This is what I have made of it! This!" And what had she made of it? What, indeed?”

“You were the only one I saw when I closed my eyes," he said bringing his hand up to her chin and tilting her head up to look into his crystal clear blue eyes."Then why wasn't I enough when they were open?" she asked another tear welling in her eyes.”