
This is what happens when you take a step: you are moving closer to what you want.

Then you are the bird, and the bird, and the bird.

The ways in which language changes never ceases to interest me.

She falls in love every night for a while. Then she learns that if you're quiet, they talk, and you can find something to dislike about anyone.

I felt sorry for her. Insects were easy to love. It's always easier to find a thing and love it without hoping for a reason.

Lou had been a blur of red in Jo's memories of this
room, the bright spot of color in the endless waiting white.

Then she set it aside.
(She set everything aside. There was some hollow place inside her that few and grew.)

Even Ayar's back tells the right time twice a day, and it was my turn to be right.

No need to worry about loving one when all of them would be back tomorrow night.