Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well.

I am not resigned: in the dark the flash still blinds me.

I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am,…

Is there no way out of the mind?

I can never read all the books I want; I can never be all the people I want…

Let me live, love, and say it well in good sentences.