We All Flee In Hope Of Finding

I Miss That Time. The Cities Back Then, Just After The Forests Died, Were Full Of Wonders, And You'd Stumble On Them--these Princes Of The Air On Common Rooftops--the Rivers That Burst Through The City Streets So They Ran Like Canals--the Rabbits In Parking Garages--the Deer Foaling, Nestled In Dumpsters Like A Nativity.

The Natural World Is So Adaptable...so Adaptable You Wonder What's Natural.

At Long Last, You May No Longer Distinguish What Binds You From What Is You.

Why Not Write A Book Which Is As Sophisticated As A Book For An Adult, But Is About The Concerns That Teenagers Actually Have?

I Could See My Face, Crying, In Her Blank Eye.