“Yet love enters my blood like an I. V.,
dripping in its little white moments.”

“And love became the world's origin and the world's ruler, yet littered its path is with flowers and blood, flowers and blood.”

“History knew the truth. History was the most inhuman product of humanity. It scooped up the whole of human will and, like the goddess Kali in Calcutta, dripped blood from its mouth as it bit and crunched.”

“What matter that the man stands for much I cannot love—the moment he touches the realms of truth he enters my world and is my friend.”

“and yet her name was like a summons to all my foolish blood.”

“I would have scattered their blood and brains like rain I would manure the Eleven Mile with their bloated carcasses and yet remember there is not one drop of murderous blood in my Veins.”

“One of my first dates with a witch was on a satanic altar and I didn't know it. I mean there was a little blood there, and something like that.”

“At this crucial moment in the life of our country, I would like to offer my blood to save the inviolability of our dear native land.”

“I love cats because I enjoy my home; and little by little, they become its visible soul.”

“I love the short story: I love its flexibility, its distillation of language, the pressure it exerts on the moment. A story demands that the reader look closely. And yet, despite the intensity and constraints, a story can be surprisingly capacious…”