Insomniacs Know Better Than Anyone

I Suspect Any Serious Reader Has A First Great Book, Just The Way Anybody Has A First Kiss.

She Could Have Had A Life As Potent And Dangerous As Literature Itself.

But There Are Still The Hours, Aren't There? One And Then Another, And You Get Through That One And Then, My God, There's Another.

I Feel Like There's Something Terrible And Wonderful And Amazing That's Just Beyond My Grasp. I Have Dreams About It. I Do Dream, By The Way. It Hovers Over Me At Odd Moments. And Then It's Gone. I Feel Like I'm Always On The Brink Of Something That Never Arrives. I Want To Either Have It Or Be Free Of It.

She Thinks How Much More Space A Being Occupies In Life Than It Does In Death; How Much Illusion Of Size Is Contained In Gestures And Movements, In Breathing. Dead, We Are Revealed In Our True Dimensions, And They Are Surprisingly Modest.