Her body moved with the frankness that comes from solitary habits. But solitude is only a human presumption. Every quiet step is thunder to beetle life underfoot; every choice is a world made new for the chosen. All secrets are witnessed.

A wife is the earth itself, changing hands, bearing scars.

We're animals. We're born like every other mammal and we live our whole lives around disguised animal thoughts.

He was wounded. I suppose some sharp thing in me wanted to sting him, for making me need him now. After he'd once cut me to the edge of what a soul will bear. …

...action restarting action: all we need to reverse inertia is some sense of consequence - some sense that beyond this occurrence there is another, and that th…

A certain recluse, I know not who, once said that no bonds attached him to this life, and the only thing he would regret leaving was the sky.

To die alone, on rock under sun at the brink of the unknown, like a wolf, like a great bird, seems to me very good fortune indeed.