Bridge Is A Game For The Undivided

I Was Pretending That I Did Not Speak Their Language; On The Moon We Spoke A Soft, Liquid Tongue, And Sang In The Starlight, Looking Down On The Dead Dried World.

[l]et My Reader Who Is Puzzled By My Awkward Explanations Close His Eyes For No More Than Two Minutes, And See If He Does Not Find Himself Suddenly Not A Compact Human Being At All, But Only A Consciousness On A Sea Of Sound And Touch . . .

We Eat The Year Away. We Eat The Spring And The Summer And The Fall. We Wait For Something To Grow And Then We Eat It.

It Was A House Without Kindness, Never Meant To Be Lived In, Not A Fit Place For People Or For Love Or For Hope. Exorcism Cannot Alter The Countenance Of A House ; Hill House Would Stay As It Was Until It Was Destroyed.

There Had Not Been This Many Words Sounded In Our House For A Long Time, And It Was Going To Take A While To Clean Them Out.