“You know how there are words that never really—they are never really quite right. You can't quite trust them. Use them. You know. Without p”

“You know how there are words that never really—they are never really quite right. You can't quite trust them. Use them. You know. Without p”

“Hopes are so well constructed, so monstrously dashed!”

“I need to tell you a story, a tale of fate and emergence.”

“Where his boyhood retreat had been a cave hewn for one, it now accommodated two. He was suddenly two and it amazed and delighted, causing a stir in the pit of him, a kind of fibrillation.”

“I need to tell you a story.'What ”

“Zachariah, Zachariah,' whispers Rachel, casting a practised eye over the back of his head and down the length of him, from the shoulder blades where his wings once grew, epochs ago, in some other guise: angel—guardian, avenging—or great vagrant bird—Daurian Jackdaw, Chimney Swift, Pacific Loon!”

“I love your loins, that's all,' Rachel says quietly. 'And now I love the word itself, and how words change, I love that too. And all the parts of you, I love them. That's all. And I'm not sad,' she whispers, gasping a little at the shock of her own tears, hot and extravagant, tears that catch the light in her lashes before they drop and roll across Zach's thighs, sparkling capsules, kaleidoscopic, the flow dynamic.”

“You know how there are words that never really—they are never really quite right. You can't quite trust them. Use them. You know. Without p”