“My Sorrow, when she’s here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walks the sodden pasture lane.”

“Days of absence, sad and dreary,
Clothed in sorrow's dark array,—
Days of absence, I am weary:
She I love is far away.”

“You have to stay in shape. My grandmother, she started walking five miles a day when she was 60. She's 97 today and we don't know where the hell she is.”

“This is the funeral pyre and Troy is dead
That sparkled so the day I saw it first,
And darkened slowly after. I am she
Who loves all beauty — yet I wither it.”

“It was not often that she was alone like this and she did not like it. When she was alone she had to think and, these days, thoughts were not so pleasant.”

“Long, dark, and lovely she had been, in those days before her mind broke and the parts scattered and she let them go.”

“She [Clinton] walks in front of me, she walks in front of me, you know. And when she walked in front of me, believe me I wasn't impressed.”

“My mother was a strong, domineering woman, probably scared to death of the position she found herself in She was psychotic, attempting suicide several times and scaring the devil out of me as a kid with threats... One day [she] would say that she loved me, and the next day she'd scream that she was sorry I'd ever been born -- that I'd ruined her life... [She] would often stuff her mouth with cotton and hold her breath, pretending that she was dead, to scare me when I was small. Sometimes she'd tell me she really could walk and during the night she was going to get up, turn on the gas jets, and kill us both. I would be absolutely terrified... And yet... she encouraged my writing and would tell me that I was a good kid and she didn't know why she acted that way... but then she'd do it again.”

“She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward.”

“If night were a thief, it would be steal my happiness or my dreams of life. Maybe she doesn't know that I don't have anything special that she can steal. He finds nothing under my pillow except my sorrows.
If she looks around, she would have found a shining chest kept in a dark corner, when she open it, she would find nothing but my loneliness. she had to go empty handed with remorse.”