All These Weirdos, And Me Getting A

I Feel Very Privileged To Hear How Somebody Used To Run Around Stickin' People Up And Stealing Cars, And Now They're Gettin' Their Life Back Together... I Just Love The Stories. The Stories Of The Fallen World, They Excite Us. That's The Interesting Stuff.

He Got Right Down In The Dark Between Heartbeats, And Rested There. And Then He Saw That Another One Wasn't Going To Come. That's It. That's The Last. He Looked At The Dark. I Would Like To Take This Opportunity, He Said, To Pray For Another Human Being.

All His Life Robert Grainier Would Remember Vividly The Burned Valley At Sundown, The Most Dreamlike Business He’d Ever Witnessed Waking—the Brilliant Pastels Of The Last Light Overhead, Some Clouds High And White, Catching Daylight From Beyond The Valley, Others Ribbed And Gray And Pink, The Lowest Of Them Rubbing The Peaks Of Bussard And Queen Mountains; And Beneath This Wondrous Sky The Black Valley, Utterly Still, The Train Moving Through It Making A Great Noise But Unable To Wake This Dead World.

We Can’t Always Tell The Whole Story About Ourselves.

When We Were Arguing On My Twenty-fourth Birthday, She Left The Kitchen, Came Back With A Pistol, And Fired It At Me Five Times From Right Across The Table. But She Missed. It Wasn't My Life She Was After. It Was More. She Wanted To Eat My Heart And Be Lost In The Desert With What She'd Done, She Wanted To Fall On Her Knees And Give Birth From It, She Wanted To Hurt Me As Only A Child Can Be Hurt By Its Mother.