• Still, I hate them. But, of course, I hate almost everybody now. Myself more than anyone. pg 8
• It's not wondering what I breathe in, but who, that threatens to choke me. pg 9
• So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real." pg 388

• Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes And when again they open, the sun will rise

Here it's safe, here it's warm Here the daisies guard you from every harm Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true Here is the place where I love you