Before leaving my room$$$ I turn$$$ and (stooping through the morning) kiss this pillow$$$ dear where our heads lived and were.

Tomorrow is our permanent address and there$$$ they'll scarcely find us (if they do$$$ we'll move away still further: into now)

The ability to speak does not make you intelligent.

You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.

I cannot for the life of me understand why small children take so long to grow up. I think they do it deliberately$$$ just to annoy me.

We are never prepared for what we expect.

I've been on a calendar$$$ but never on time.

Once you make peace with authority$$$ you become an authority.

I wondered what it was to pray$$$ because it was something I have never learned to do$$$ and all I remember is falling.

Life is a message scribbled in the dark.