…beating Time Along The Edge Of Thought.

The Only Reason I Remembered This Play Was Because It Had A Mad Person In It, And Everything I Had Ever Read About Mad People Stuck In My Mind, While Everything Else Flew Out.

I Love The People,' I Said. 'i Have Room In Me For Love, And For Ever So Many Little Lives.

I, To You, Am Lost In The Gorgeous Errors Of Flesh.

Out Of The Ash I Rise With My Red Hair And I Eat Men Like Air.

The Night Sky Is Only A Sort Of Carbon Paper, Blueblack, With The Much-poked Periods Of Stars Letting In The Light, Peephole After Peephole--- A Bonewhite Light, Like Death, Behind All Things.