power of language

• Waste not want not. I am not being wasted. What do I want?
• Where I am is not a prison but a privilege, as aunt lydia said, who was in love with either/or
• Not my room, I refuse to say my
• The voice itself a traveller, arriving from a distant place
• Fraternise means to act like a brother. Luke told me that. He said there was no corresponding word that meant to behave like a sister
• The derivations of words, curious usages. I used to tease him about being pedantic.
• They used to have dolls for little girls, that would talk if you pulled a string at the back; I thought I was sounding like that, voice of a monotone, voice of a doll.
• books, open face down, this way and that, extravagantly
• If it’s a story I’m telling, then I have control over the ending. Then there will be an ending, to the story, and real life will come after it.
• Sometimes I repeat the words to myself. they give me a small joy.
• Give me children or else I die. There’s more than one meaning to it.
• He has the word. How we squandered it once
• to be guilty of the sin of reading
• These are the kind of litanies I use, to compose myself
• We are hers to define, we must suffer her adjectives.
• I wanted from her a life more ceremonious
• If it were eating it would be gluttony of the famished, if it were sex it would be a swift furtive stand-up in an alley somewhere
• Pen is Envy, aunt lydia would say
• There’s an odour of witch about them, something mysterious and exotic
• There is something powerful in the whispering of obscenities
• Aunt Lydia Sucks. It was like a flag waved from a hilltop in rebellion.
• I tell him my real name, and feel therefore I am known